: 


GOSSIP    OF   THE    CENTUKY. 


ERRATA. 

Page    62,  line  16,  for  "  on,"  read  "  in." 
„       97,  last  line,  for  "  it,"  read  "  them." 
„     103,  penultimate  line,  for  "  was,"  read  "  were." 
„     109,  line  19,  for  "  descendants,"  read  "  occupants." 
„     127,    „      1,  for  "  they,"  read  "  her  works." 

„     144,   „    17  from  below,  for  "adopted  "  read  "  universally  adopted." 
„     150,    „      3,  for  "  that,"  read  "  those." 
„     201,    „    12,  for  "  art,"  read  "  actors." 
„     410,    „     10,  for  "  tatooed,"  read  "  tabooed." 
„      415,    „     10,  for  «•  Le,"  read  "  Je." 


"WHOM  MEN  CALL  LORD  HOUGHTON,  BUT  THE  GODS  MOXCKTON  MILNES. 
Vide  p.  255. 


GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY 

PERSONAL   AXD   TRADITIONAL   MEMORIES- 
SOCIAL   LITERARY  ARTISTIC   <&c. 


BY    THE    AUTHOE 

OF 

FLEMISH   INTERIORS,"   "  DE   OMNIBUS   REBUS,"   &c. 


"If  aiij'  one  were  to  form  a  book  of  what  he  has  seen,  and  heard,  it  must,  in 
whatever  hands,  form  a  most  useful  and  entertaining  record." — GRAY  (quoted  by 
Horace  Walpole) 


VOL.    I. 


|lew  IJorh: 
MACMILLAN   AND   CO. 

1892. 


(All  rights  reserved.) 


PBEFACE. 


"  But  while  I  mused,  came  Memory  with  sad  eyes, 
Holding  the  folded  annals  of  my  youth." 


can  be  few  among  us  who  are  not  stirred  by  a 
_  feeling  of  sympathetic  interest  in  the  times  immediately 
preceding  ours  —  few  who  would  not  willingly  know  some- 
thing of  those  whose  lives,  occupying  part  of  the  same 
century  —  grazed  as  it  were  our  own,  and  whose  personal 
acquaintance  we  just  missed. 

In  trying  to  fathom  the  nearer  past  and,  so  to  speak,  to. 
connect  ourselves  with  it,  research  seems  more  hopeful  if  we 
address  ourselves  to  contemporary  sources  and  seek  our 
information  regarding  recently  departed  celebrities  from 
those  to  whom  they  were  personally  known.  The  genera- 
tion that  can  yet  give  us  any  authentic  details  of  our  imme- 
diate predecessors,  is  itself  rapidly  passing  away,  and  as 
each  patriarch  drops  out  of  its  thinning  ranks  we  begin  to 
realize  to  ourselves  the  worth  of  our  neglected  chances,  and 
to  remember  how  much  valuable  testimony  we  have  already 
failed  to  secure  from  those  whose  voice  is  now  evermore 
silent,  and  whose  knowledge  is  buried  with  them  in  the 
stillness  of  the  tomb. 

The  word  gossip  conveys  yrimti  facie,  a  frivolous  idea  ; 


vi  PEEFACE. 


and  is  generally  associated  in  our  minds  with  what  is 
supposed  to  be  a  congenial  pastime  of  the  more  talkative  if 
not  the  more  reflective  sex ;  but  all  gossip  is  not  necessarily 
frivolous,  nor  need  it  be  malicious — though  "  Mediant  comme 
une  clironique"  has  passed  into  a  French  proverb.  History 
owes  most  of  what  little  truth  it  contains,  to  the  gossip  of 
diarists  and  annotators  as  well  as  to  the  intimate  confi- 
dences of  friendly  correspondence,  and  notwithstanding  the 
necessarily  trifling  details  of  these  private  effusions  and  the 
banalites  with  which  they  often  abound,  the  sidelights  of 
such  records  have  become  invaluable  to  the  groping  student 
of  past  times,  and  of  departed  humanity  ;  nor  can  we 
possess  too  many  such  chronicles ;  the  value  of  each  being 
proportioned  to  the  subject  of  which  it  treats.  Trifles  cease 
to  be  trifles  when  Boswell  is  relating  them  of  Johnson ; 
besides,  experience  shows  that  while  one  observer  collects 
one  class  of  information,  another  applies  himself  to  another ; 
one  will  have  been  drawn  to  men  of  certain  tastes  and 
pursuits,  another  has  been  led  to  cultivate  those  of  an 
altogether  different  type,  and  even  where  our  Boswells 
have  met  in  a  common  pursuit,  we  shall  find  they  have  been 
respectively  struck  by,  and  have  dwelt  upon,  different  cha- 
racteristics in  the  same  individual  so  that  the  notes  of  one 
form  a  valuable,  not  to  say  an  indispensable,  supplement  to 
those  of  another.  Contemporary  memoirs  will  therefore 
always  be,  as  they  always  have  been,  attractive,  whether 
from  their  picturesque  detail  and  often  na'ives  descrip- 
tions, or  from  their  unconscious  revelations  of  private  life 
and  character,  and  the  solution  they  often  afford  of  family 
mysteries  and  historic  secrets ;  into  these,  from  more  or  less 
excusable  motives,  we  all  like  to  plunge,  and  many  of  them 
can  become  known  to  us  only  from  the  traditions  of  the 
passing  generation.  As  of  celebrated  persons,  so  also  of 
places  whose  every  stone  has  its  history — and  so  likewise  of 


PREFACE.  vii 


customs  already  become  obsolete  ;  the  detail  of  such  lures  us 
back  into  a  past  that  we  have  missed — a  past  which  is  addi- 
tionally fascinating  because  it  is  past ;  naturally,  therefore, 
we  welcome  the  living  testimony  which  yet,  but  not  for  long, 
survives  it. 

Are  there  any  who  can  take  a  retrospective  view  of  their 
past  years  and  not  experience  with  unavailing  self-reproach 
a  melancholy  consciousness  of  inexplicable  neglect  as  they 
recall  one  by  one  the  formidable  catalogue  of  priceless 
opportunities  and  discover  for  the  first  time  how  recklessly 
they  wasted  them  ? 

Full  of  youth  and  its  illusions,  we  glanced  down  the 
lengthening  perspective  of  the  future,  of  which  we  neither 
saw,  nor  sought  to  see,  the  end ;  we  regarded  life  as  a  long 
summer's  day  during  which  the  flowers  that  surrounded  us 
should  always  be  in  bloom  ;  and  we  had  a  vague  idea  that  we 
could  pick  them  at  any  time. 

Who  of  those  now  approaching  the  close  of  life  will  not 
say  with  me,  "  What  a  tale  I  might  have  had  to  tell !  What 
a  volume  I  might  have  been  able  to  write,  had  I  but  taken 
advantage  of  the  chances  that  now  seem  to  have  put  them- 
selves in  my  way  !  "  But  there  is  a  period  in  our  lives  when 
our  eyes  seem  to  be  holden,  and  we  must  have  lived,  to  learn 
the  force  of  the  exclamation,  "  Sijeunesse  savait,  si  vieillesse 
pouvait ! " 

My  endeavour  in  the  following  pages, — while  drawing  upon 
family  traditions  to  add  to  such  personal  remembrance  of 
of  men,  manners,  and  localities,  as  seem  to  be  of  broad  and 
universal  interest, — has  been  to  exclude  as  much  as  possible 
in  a  transcript  of  this  nature,  the  yet  inevitable  ego.  If,  as 
Pascal  says,  "  le  moi  est  ha'issable,"  the  more  unobtrusive 
that  "moi"  can  be  made,  the  better:  I  have  therefore 
limited  as  much  as  possible  my  own  part  in  these  pages  to 
that  of  a  witness  or  giver  of  evidence  ;  unfortunately,  such  a 


viii  PREFACE. 


witness  in  recording  his  testimony  as  to  persons  and 
events,  is  compelled  to  manifest  a  certain  individuality ; 
should  I  therefore  seem,  at  any  time,  to  slide  insensibly  into 
prominence,  I  can  only  beg  my  readers  to  attribute  it  to  the 
force  of  circumstances,  and  to  regard  the  narrator  simply  as 
the  harmless,  necessary  channel  of  communication. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   I, 
COURT     GOSSIP. 

PAGE. 

George  IV.  on  Constitution  Hill — The  Duke  of  Cumberland — The  King's 
last  illness  and  death — Curious  revelations  of  the  King's  habits — The 
Pavilion — The  lying  in  state — Various  traits  of  the  King's  character — 
Croker  at  Court — Anecdote  of  the  Duke  of  Clarence — Croker's  defence  of 
the  Duke  of  York — Colonel  Wardle — Croker's  character — The  King  and 
"  the  Duke " — The  King  and  Sir  Robert  Peel — The  King  opening 
Parliament — An  accident  to  the  State  Coach — Anecdote  of  Princess 
Charlotte — Fanny  Burney — Anecdote  of  George  III. — Royal  grammar — 
The  education  of  Queen  Charlotte  and  the  Royal  Princesses — The  King's 
social  qualifications — Anecdotes  of  the  King's  urbanity — The  King,  the 
guest  of  Lord  Anglesey — The  King  and  Assheton  Smith's  father — The 
Regent  and  Lord  Byron — The  King's  probity — Lord  Kinsale — The  King's 
rebuke  to  him — The  Kinsale  prerogative — Lady  Anne  Hamilton  and 
Queen  Caroline — Riots  at  the  Queen's  Trial — "The  Duke"  and  the 
Marquis  of  Anglesey — Attack  on  the  Morning  Post  office — Dr.  Parr 
and  the  King's  proclamation — The  King  and  R.  B.  Sheridan — The  King 
and  Madame  de  Stael — Carlton  House — The  National  Gallery — The 
"  Care  Colonne" — Joseph  Bonomi — The  King  and  Buckingham  Palace 
— The  Duke  of  York — His  death — Sale  of  his  plate — Lying  in  state — 
Anecdote  of  his  funeral  service — The  Duke  of  Kent — His  domestic  life 
— Estimable  character — A  clockwork  household — A  law  for  the  Royal 
Kitchen — Circumstances  of  His  Royal  Highness's  premature  death — 
Unaccountable  incident  at  his  funeral — His  will — His  debts — Dis- 
charged by  the  Queen  immediately  on  coming  to  the  throne — Lord  Fitz- 
william — The  Duke  of  Clarence — William  IV.  and  Queen  Adelaide — 
The  King's  bonhomie  and  goodness  of  heart — The  King  and  Lord 
Denman — His  exemplary  conduct  as  a  middy — And  as  an  officer — Ad- 
miration of  the  Spanish  Admiral  for  him — The  Duke  as  William  IV. — 
As  Lord  High  Admiral — The  King's  diplomatic,  and  domestic,  qualifica- 
tions— Prince  Talleyrand  as  ambassador — The  King  as  a  speaker — The 
King  and  Sir  Astley  Cooper — Queen  Adelaide — The  Court  at  Brighton — 
Popularity  of  the  King  and  Queen,  there — Anecdotes  of  the  Court — The 
King's  sense  of  humour — Mr.  Ewart,  M.P. — Characteristic  anecdote — 


CONTENTS. 


Edifying  death  of  the  King — Princess  Queen  Victoria — The  Coronation 
of  Queen  Victoria — Incidents  and  accidents — A  popular  festival — The 
crowds  of  spectators  who  filled  London — The  Procession — Incidents  — 
Lord  Alfred  Paget — Marshal  Soult  —  His  immense  popularity — His 
appearance — His  equipage — Croker's  reprehensible  behaviour — "The 
Duke"  and  Soult — His  well-turned  compliment — Madame  Mohl's  descrip- 
tion of  the  pageant — Impression  of  the  scene  on  the  Turkish  ambassador 
— The  Crown — Accident  to  the  Crown — "  The  Duke"  paying  homage — 
Lord  Rolle's  accident — The  Queen's  goodness  of  heart  and  presence  of 
mind — The  dignity  of  her  manner — Hitches  in  the  course  of  the  grand 
function — Difficulties  of  the  young  Queen's  task  — Her  admirable  per- 
formance of  it — The  Queen  and  Lord  Melbourne — Anecdote  related  by 
Major  Gumming  Bruce — Brighton  under  the  new  reign — The  Queen's 
very  rational  objections  to  the  place — The  Pavilion — George  IV.'s 
Royal  road — Brighton  habitues — George  Canning — His  house  at  Kemp 
Town — Spouting-room  and  subterranean  passage — Brunswick  Terrace  not 
then  built — George  Canning's  qualifications  as  a  statesman  and  orator 
— Cause  of  his  death — The  Basevi  family — The  Haweis  family — The 
Duchess  of  St.  Albans — Lady  Byron — Countess  of  Aldborough — Anec- 
dotes of  her — Charles  Greville — Mrs.  Fitzherbert — The  Duke  of  Sussex 
— The  Duchess  of  Inverness — Anecdotes — The  Duke  of  Cambridge — 
His  peculiarities — Atavism  of  his  "triptology" — Anecdotes — The  Duke 
of  Cambridge  at  Church — At  the  Opera — Anecdote  of  him  at  a  public 
dinner — The  Duke  of  Brunswick — His  habits  and  eccentricities — His 
wealth — Fads  and  vagaries — His  daughter — Strange  treatment  of  her — 
His  hatred  of  his  guardians — Effigy  of  Count  Minister — His  desire  to 
see  an  execution — The  result — A  grotesque  Duke — His  diamonds — His 
residences — Curiously  constructed  and  arranged  house  in  Paris — The 
distribution  of  his  day — The  Duke  of  Brunswick  and  Louis  Napoleon 
— Description  of  his  personal  appearance — Voyage  in  a  balloon — Ar- 
rested while  on  the  spree — His  disposal  of  his  fabulous  wealth — Princess 
Victoria  of  Coorgh  —  Her  baptism  —  The  Queen,  her  sponsor  —  Her 
appearance  and  disposition — Marriage — Early  death  ....  1-82 


CHAPTER  II. 
SOCIAL,  LITERARY,  AND  POLITICAL  CELEBBITIES. 

•John  Elwes  the  Miser — His  descendant — His  atavism — Anecdote — His  forbears 
— Anecdotes  of  John  Elwes — Illustrations  of  his  mixed  character — John 
Elwes  and  the  Surgeon — His  generosity — His  meanness — Shrewdness 
in  speculation — Outwitted  by  circumstances — Honourable  principles — 
Anecdote — A  living  paradox — Aversion  to  matrimony — Disposal  of  his 
fortune — J.  Home — Son  of  a  "Turkey  merchant"  —  Education  at 
Eton — Power  of  making  and  attaching  friends — Mistaken  vocation 
—Taken  up  by  Mi*.  Tooke  of  Purley — Service  rendered  to  Tookc,  who 
adopts  him— Takes  his  name— Details  of  his  life— Tried  for  high 
treason — Horror  of  marriage — His  disputed  seat  in  Parliament — Many 
and  fast  friends  —  Tastes,  proclivities,  and  prejudices  —  Home  Tooke 


CONTENTS.  xi 


PAGE 

and  Junius — A  trio  of  illustrious  runaways — Amusing  anecdote — Refusal 
to  pay  taxes — Distress  levied — The  course  pursued  by  Home  Tooke— His 
tomb — Epitaph — Sir  Francis  Burdett — Personal  appearance — Fine  trait  of 
character — Albany  Fonblanque — Agreeable  manners,  but  mordant  as  a 
critic — The  Duke  of  Somerset — Lady  Lovelace — Ada  Byron's  ignorance 
of  her  father's  genius  and  works — How  and  when  discovered  by  her — 
Newstead  Abbey — Lady  Byron — Contessa  Guiccioli — Anecdotes — Her 
appearance — Byron's  ultimate  weariness  of  her — Lady  Blessington's 
statement  to  Uwins,  B.A. — Byron  at  Venice — Anecdote — His  club-foot 
— Byron  and  Mrs.  Opie — George  Robins — "His  value  to  the  aristocracy" 
— Byron  and  George  Robins — His  popularity — Characteristics  —  Integ- 
rity—  Imaginativeness  and  ingenuity  —  Anecdotes  —  George  Robins  at 
Strawberry  Hill — Anecdotes — Benvenuto  Cellini's  "Chaffdover" — 
Strawberry  Hill — Its  vicissitudes  and  various  phases  of  existence — Its 
occupants — Frances,  Lady  Waldegrave — George  Robins's  fortune — Death 
— Charles  Buller,  M.P. — A  stormy  introduction — His  facetious  character 
— Count  d'Orsay — His  descent — Fascination  of  his  manners — Handsome 
face  and  figure — His  meeting  with  the  Blessington  family — Marriage  to 
the  youthful  Lady  Harriet  Gardiner — Separation — Byron's  attraction 
for  d'Orsay— Unqualified  admiration  for  his  "Journal" — His  social 
qualifications — Varied  accomplishments — His  would-be  imitators — His 
success  in  fashionable  life — His  toilette — Colonel  Gronow — Anecdotes — 
d'Orsay's  extravagance— Debts — His  tailor  and  bootmaker — As  a  man  of 
the  world — His  connection  with  Lady  Blessington — Salon  at  Gore  House 
d'Orsay  and  the  Tamburini  riots — His  characteristic  English — Knowledge 
of  music — Anecdotes — Talent  for  portraiture  and  sculpture — His  portrait 
of  "  The  Duke  " — His  portraits  of  professionals — Industry  and  ability — 
Portrait  of  Byron — Criticism  of  it  by  Tita  Falcieri,  Byron's  Gondolier — 
Byron's  curls — Tita's  fidelity — Anecdotes — d'Orsay's  introduction  to 
George  IV. — The  Comte  de  Guiche  (afterwards  Due  de  Gramont),  French 
Ambassador  and  d'Orsay's  brother-in-law — d'Orsay's  escape  from  his 
creditors — His  atelier  in  Paris — Ambitious  artistic  attempts  and  successes 
— Lady  Blessington's  death — Her  literary  and  other  qualifications — 
His  grief  —  The  Mausoleum  he  built  for  her  remains  and  his  own 
at  Chambourci — His  edifying  death — The  Archbishop  of  Paris — 
Lady  Blessington — The  Comte  de  Guiche — His  duel — The  fashionable 
sleeve  —  The  Ordinary  of  Newgate  —  His  elegant  and  refined  appear- 
ance— Palmer  the  Poisoner — The  Chaplain's  hopelessness  about  him — 
Anecdote— Times  leader  on  this  criminal — Sir  David  Salomons — Lord 
Mayor — Mansion  House  dinner  to  Lord  Chief  Justice  Campbell  and  the 
Bar — The  Lord  Mayor's  complimentary  speech  to  Lord  Campbell — 
Toasts— Extract  from  Lord  Campbell's  diary  —  His  conscientious 
dealing  with  the  Palmer  case — His  compliment  to  Sir  David  Salomons 
on  his  pluck,  energy,  and  success  in  getting  his  co-religionists  into 
Parliament — Sir  David's  Shrievalty — The  Lady  Mayoress — Holford 
House,  Regent's  Park — Its  owner — His  life  and  habits — Hospitality — 
Princely  fortune — Anecdote — The  "Light  of  other  days" — Holford's 
death — Claimants — The  Delaue  family — Details — Anecdotes — The  Spot- 
tiswoode  family — Details — Anecdotes — Professor  Palmer — His  wife — 
His  consummate  knowledge  as  an  Orientalist — His  mission — Its  result 


xii  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

— Robbed  and  murdered — His  tragic  death — His  literary  productions 
— Assheton  Smith— The  "Great  Huntsman" — The  high  esteem  in 
which  he  was  held  oil  the  Continent  as  in  England — Tedworth  House 
— His  costly  and  elegant  additions  to  it — Mrs.  Smith — His  singular 
aptitude  for,  and  success  in,  field  sports — Admirable  organizer — His 
kennels— Shrewd  intelligence — A  scholar  as  well  as  a  country  squire  and 
M.  F.  H. — His  great  wealth — Extensive  and  valuable  property  in  Wales 
— His  intimacy  with  "The  Duke" — His  celebrated  hunting  parties — The 
high  tone  he  gave  to  Sport — His  visits  to  Apsley  House  and  Strathfield- 
saye — His  just  and  rational  ideas  on  public  education— His  skill  in 
training  horses  and  hounds — The  good  understanding  between  himself 
and  these  animals — Anecdotes — Intelligence  of  his  horses— His  gradual 
decay  and  death,  almost  in  the  saddle — His  temperance — The  veneration 
he  inspired  in  his  servants  and  grooms — Beckford's  idea  of  a  perfect 
huntsman — His  reforms  in  the  character  of  Sport — Assheton  Smith  and 
the  Duke  of  Richmond — His  wealth  and  testamentary  disposition  of  it — 
—  Squire  Waterton — Sir  William  Gore  Ouseley — His  fine  collection  of 
Persian  curios — Various  testimonies  to  his  value  to  Oriental  literature — • 
The  Misses  Ouseley — Sir  Frederick  Gore  Ouseley — His  musical  pro- 
clivities and  capabilities — Successful  career — Early  death — Lord  Russell 
— Visit  to  Pembroke  Lodge — His  appearance — Manner — Vividness  of 
his  memory — Interior  of  his  house — Succeeded  by  his  grandson — Sir 
Walter  Stirling — His  agreeable  manners  and  fine  qualities — Erudition — 
Taste  and  knowledge  in  matters  of  art — Anecdotes — His  common  sense 
— Fair  and  sensible  views  on  the  "education  craze"  and  its  disastrous 
results — Anecdotes — Conversazione  at  the  American  minister's,  July  4, 
1867 — Discussion  of  Maximilian's  cruel  fate — Mr.  and  Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall — 
Spiritualistic  seance— Anecdotes — Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall's  Wednesdays — Idio- 
syncrasies—Mr. S.  C.  Hall — "Temperance  Hall" — Mr.  Home — Migra- 
tions of  the  Halls — His  wife's  death — His  own  death — Obituary  notices 
— Table-turning — Spirit  rapping — Alexis — A  seance — Anecdote — Mrs. 
Haydon — A  seance — A  catastrophe — Spiritualistic  seance  in  the  streets 
at  Capua — R.  Browning's  anecdote  of  Kirkup — The  Berlin  Conference 
— Reception  of  Lord  Beaconsfield  and  the  Marquis  of  Salisbury  on  their 
return — Lord  Campbell  on  Disraeli — School  anecdote  of  Disraeli— His 
baptism  at  twelve  years  of  age 83-179 


CHAPTER  III. 
SOCIAL,  LITERARY,  AND  POLITICAL  CELEBRITIES. 

Thomas  Day — His  eccentric  character — Personal  appearance — Strange  ideas — 
Educating  a  wife — Failures — Curious  details — Succeeding  but  unsuccess- 
ful attempts  at  matrimony — Honora  and  Elizabeth  Sneyd — Ultimate 
success — Hia  wife — Their  singular  mode  of  life — His  fine  character — 
Philanthropic  efforts — Death — His  wife's  despair — Principles  of  education 
— Sandford  and  Merton—J.  J.  Rousseau — Richard  Lovell  Edgeworth — 
Rousseau's  system  a  practical  failure — Sir  William  Jones  and  Day's  other 
friends— Richard  Twiss  "  The  Traveller  "—His  qualifications  and  accorn- 


CONTENTS.  xiii 


PAGE 

plishments — James  and  Horace  Smith — Cromwell's  head — Michael 
Angelo  Taylor — Horace  Smith's  two  daughters — The  Misses  Weston  and 
Crabb  Robinson — His  qualifications — Crabb  Robinson  on  Braham — Anec- 
dote of  Judge  Buller — Crabb  Robinson's  affection  for  Wordsworth  and 
for  Charles  and  Mary  Lamb — Lamb's  cottage — His  grave — Epitaph — 
Crabb  Robinson  as  Times  correspondent — Rogers — His  marked  cha- 
racteristics— As  a  banker — As  a  poet — Rogers  in  the  Catacombs — 
Anecdotes — The  "  Hombiibus  " — Rogers  at  Hatfield — The  Marchioness  of 
Salisbury — In  the  Hatfield  fire — Sir  Joshua's  portrait  of  her — Her 
valuable  social  qualifications — Anecdotes  of  Rogers — His  .£1,000,000 
banknote — Queen  Caroline  at  the  Abbey — Macaulay  and  Rogers—  Sydney 
Smith — Lord  Melbourne  on  Macaulay — Whewell — Sir  David  Brewster 
on  Whewell — Lord  Jeffreys  on  Brewster — Buckle — Cardinal  Wiseman — 
George  Raj'inond — Curious  history — Literary  and  dramatic  society — His 
bachelor  dinners  and  conversaziones — Solution  of  a  difficulty — Ray- 
mond's Life  of  Elliston  —  Illustrated  by  Cruikshank  —  Diplomatic 
answers  to  an  innocent  advertisement — Charles  and  William  Goding 
— James  Goding — Lady  Jane  Coventry — A  museum  of  fiddles — Sir 
Francis  Bond  Head — Adventurous  life — Rider  and  sportsman — Uni- 
versal knowledge  and  ability — Bubbles — Domestic  life — Death — His 
brother  Captain  Sir  G.  Head— W.  E.  Gladstone  at  28— On  the  Rhine- 
Sir  S.  Glynne — His  sisters — Andrew  Crosse  (of  Fyne  Court)  the 
electrician — His  noble  character — Distinguished  ability — Enterpiizing 
experiments — Surprising  results — Faraday's  admiration  for  him — Mr. 
Arden— His  tastes  and  proclivities — A  collector — Discoverer  of  an  ancient 
papyrus — Louis  Napoleon — Twins — Anecdote — George  Eliot — G.  H. 
Lewes — Characteristics  of  both — The  Priory — Their  Sunday  "  at  homes  " 
— The  society  that  frequented  them — Domestic  life — Visit  with  them  the 
National  Gallery — Anthony  Trollope— Madame  Parkes  Belloc — Velas- 
quez's picture — Vandyke's  triple  portrait  of  Charles  I. — Its  history — 
Specimens  of  correspondence — Agatha — Lewes's  admiration  for  Lessiug 
— Letter  of  Lewes  mentioning  the  late  Lord  Ly tton — Personal  appearance 
of  "  George  Eliot "  and  of  Mr.  Lewes — Robert  Curzon — Monasteries  of  the 
Levant — George  Cruikshank — Interesting  conversation  with  him — Dr. 
Richardson — Lecture  at  the  Charterhouse  on  Stephen  Gray — Cruik- 
shank's  illustrations  of  Dickens's  and  Harrison  Ainsworth's  works — 
Cruikshank's  caricatures  of  Napoleon  I.-— His  zeal  in  the  Volunteer  move- 
ment—  "  Teetotal  George  " — Chavles  Dickens  —  Anecdote — Dickens's 
domestic  character — Anecdote  of  his  grandmother — Harrison  Ainsworth 
— "  Cheviot  Tichborne" — Contemporary  popularity  of  his  books — Historical 
novels — Highwaymen  heroes — Questionable  morality — His  physique — 
Imitation  of  d'Orsay — Hepworth  Dixon — Characteristics — Interesting 
particulars — As  a  lecturer — A  Nonconformist — An  author — Ubiquitous 
travels — Mormons — "  Spiritual  wives  " — His  sad  old  age  and  death — 
Wimhrop  Mackworth  Praed — His  daughter— A  youthful  admirer  of 
his  poetry — Mrs.  Jameson — Some  personal  particulars  —  Story  of  a 
bracelet — Her  niece — Mrs.  Macpherson — Mrs.  Oliphant — Sir  Thomas 
Duffus  Hardy — Successor  to  Sir  Francis  Palgrave — His  special  fitness 
for  his  calling — Charming  manners— Intelligence  and  conscientiousness 
— Lady  Hardy's  conversaziones — Her  novels — Miss  Isa  Duffus  Hardy, 


xiv  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

also  a  writer  of  fiction— Sir  Thomas's  great  services  at  the  Tower  and 
in  the  Eecord  Office — Carlyle — Henry  Greville's  appreciation  of  him 
— An  instance  of  Carlyle's  practical  philosophy  deserving  of  credit 
— J.  S.  Mill — Lord  Hoiighton's  great  admiration  for  Carlyle — Thomas 
Slingsby  Duucombe — Anecdote  of  Madame  Vestris — Dillon  Browne — 
Sir  Edward,  Lady  Lytton  Bulwer,  and  their  little  daughter — Anecdotes — 
Dr.  Birch,  the  Egyptologist — Conscientious  work  at  the  British  Museum 
— The  astonishing  number  and  value  of  his  published  works — His  simple 
and  unassuming  character,  notwithstanding  his  vast  knowledge — Appre- 
ciator  of  MSS.  and  works  of  art — Anecdote  of  his  quick  apprehension — 
Winning  manners — Domestic  life — Take  him  to  see  General  Sir  J. 
Alexander — Chinese  curiosities — Dr.  Birch's  appreciation  of  them — Dr. 
Birch  as  a  French  scholar — Had  known  Madame  Recamier — Robbery 
at  the  Museum — Detection  and  recovery  by  Dr.  Birch — Anecdotes  of 
him — Lamented  death — The  "Poet  Close" — "Lake  Laureate" — His 
ambitions  — His  lofty  aspirations  —  Opinion  of  himself — His  pension 
— Lord  Palmerston's  mistake — How  corrected — Lord  Houghton — His 
pedigree  —  Questionable  statement  by  Mr.  Wemyss  Eeid  —  Egrernont 
House — Mrs.  James  Milnes — Her  diamonds — Disposal  of  her  fortune — 
The  Gaskells — Lord  Houghton's  grandmother — Rachel  Busk — Great 
Houghton  part  of  her  fortune — Anecdote  of  Lord  Houghton  and  Louis 
Philippe — Lord  Houghton  with  the  archaeologists  of  the  British  Associa- 
tion— Lord  Houghton  as  a  speaker  and  reader — Grillon's  Club — Lord 
Houghton's  portrait  by  G.  Richmond — Lord  Houghton's  sister,  Lady 
Galway — Excellent  reader — Clever  artist — Lord  Houghton's  wealth — Its 
source — Lord  Tennyson's  sonnet  on  his  death  ....  179-256 


CHAPTER  IV. 
SOCIAL   CELEBRITIES. 


Women-writers — "Blues" — Mrs.  Scmerville — Her  affability  and  unpretending 
manner — Mrs.  Elwood — Her  qualifications  as  a  literary  woman — Her 
sister  Lady  Howard  Elphinstone — Maria  Edgeworth — Her  father — Her 
devotedness  to  him — Abandonment  of  her  marriage  with  the  Swedish 
Ambassador— Abbe  Edgeworth — Maria  Edgeworth's  niece — Her  collec- 
tion of  Edgeworth  relics — Portrait  of  Abbe  Edgeworth — A  smart 
repartee  —  I  ady  Strangford  —  Miss  Beaufort  —  Anecdotes  —  The  only 
female  Freemason,  Lord  Doneraile's  daughter — The  true  version  of 
the  story — An  awkward  predicament — Anecdote — "The  Lady  of  the 
Four  Birds" — Mrs.  Fry — Comtesse  de  Montalembert — Lady  Jane  St. 
Maur — Lady  Catherine  Graham— Lady  Nugent — Miss  Neave — Manor 
House,  Chelsea — The  labours  of  all  these  ladies  on  behalf  of  the 
"  masses '' — Mrs.  Fry  "  at  home  " — Anecdote — Her  appearance,  manner, 
&c. — Mrs.  Fry  and  the  King  of  Prussia — Quaker  habits,  manners, 
costume,  and  general  practices — Anecdotes — Names  given  to  their 
children — Anecdotes— Objections  to  pay  rates — George  III.  and  the 


CONTENTS.  xv- 


PAGE. 

Quakers — "William  and  Mary  Howitt  described — Spiritualistic  ideas — 
Pleasant  manners — His  death — Her  conversion  to  Catholicism — Her 
death  in  Rome — L.  E.  L.  described — Her  short  and  harassed  life — Lite- 
rary productions  —  Marriage — Goes  to  the  Cape  —  Mysterious  death 
there — Frances  Trollope — Her  literary  works — Character  of  her  writing 
— Death  at  Florence — Lady  Franklin — Devotedness  to  her  husband — 
Efforts  to  discover  his  whereabouts — Her  house — Salon — Society  that 
frequented  it — Honourable  Maria  Otway  Cave — The  Braye  title — 
Its  vicissitudes — Her  agreeable  manners  and  informing  conversation 
— Anecdotes — Savill-Onley — Origin  of  the  name — Princess  de  Lieven 
— Her  political  intrigues — Social  treachery — Success  in  gaining  her  ends 
— Her  history — Talleyrand's  opinion  of  her  and  her  husband — Frances 
Lady  "Waldegrave — Birth — Marriages — Popularity  in  society — Her  great 
wealth — Strawberry  Hill — Qualifications  as  a  hostess — Lord  and  Lady 
Farnborough — Their  encomiums  on  her — Lady  Douglas — Her  blindness 
— Her  amiability — Her  interesting  life — Anecdote  of  the  Peninsular  War 
— Barry  Cornwall — Mrs.  Procter — Her  life — Manners,  appearance,  social 
qualifications — Peculiarly  interesting  social  position — Her  daughters — 
Her  death  —  Funeral  —  Anecdotes — Aptitude  and  love  for  society — 
Present  at  the  late  and  the  former,  Jubilee — Madame  Mohl — Her 
character — Detail  of  her  life — Social  position — Madame  Mohl  and  the 
Queen — "  Lady  Augusta,"  and  the  Dean — Her  residence  in  the  Eue 
du  Bac — Anecdotes  of  her  peculiarities — Lady  Dukinfield — Danced  at 
the  Waterloo  Ball — Still  living  in  1884 — Crabb  Eobinson's  mother 
— Anecdote — Lady  Henry  Paulett — Miss  O'Brien — Curious  character — 
Description — Anecdote 2S7-29& 


CHAPTER   V. 
MEN   OF  THE   SWOBD. 

F.M.  The  Duke  of  Wellington — His  popularity — Urbanity — Dislike  of  impor- 
tunate demonstrations — Contrast  with  Brougham — His  moral  influence, 
especially  with  the  army — Instanced — Fickleness  of  the  mob — His  silent 
rebuke — Hostility  of  Lord  Grey  to  the  Duke,  prompted  by  Princess  de 
Lieven — Talleyrand's  exalted  impression  of  the  Duke — Louis  Philippe's 
opinion  of  him — Charles  Greville's  estimate  of  Talleyrand — The 
Duke's  sense  of  humour — Ready  repartee — His  deficiency  in  modern 
languages — Knowledge  of  Spanish — His  voice  and  oratorical  powers — 
Maria  Edgeworth's  letters — The  Duke's  engagement  to  Honble. 
"  Kitty  Pakeiiham,"  and  subsequent  marriage —The  Duchess's  death — 
The  Duke  as  a  sportsman — Assheton  Smith — The  Duke  frequently 
asked  to  narrate  his  battles — Failure  of  the  Duke's  powers— An  entire 
change  in  his  manner — A  chance  attendance  at  Exeter  Hall — His  recep- 
tion— Improvement  in  his  health  and  humour — Curious  letter  of  d'Orsay 
to  Haydon — The  Duke's  portraits — That  by  d'Orsay — His  visit  to  Wilkie'8 
studio — The  Duke's  love  of  music — The  Wellesley  family— The  Duke's 
appreciation  of  the  great  Italian  artistes— Lord  Burghersh's  opera — The 


xvi  CONTENTS, 


PAGE 

Marquis  of  Douro — Anecdote — Caricatures  of  the  Duke — The  Duke  and 
Napoleon — La  Belle  Alliance — The  Victory  of  Waterloo — Napoleon's  car- 
riage—General John  Eeid  Becher,  K.E.,  C.B. — One  of  the  old  Punjauh 
staff — A  representative  Anglo-Indian  officer — His  high  character  and  great 
but  unpretending  services— Eecounted  by  Col.  Sir  Henry  Yule — His  work 
at  Hazara — Lord  Lawrence — Sir  Henry  Lawrence — Major-General  Col- 
linson — Sobraon — Becher,  Punjaub  boimdary  commissioner  at  Peshawur 
— Becher's  valuable  services  in  the  Mutiny — Conscientiouswork — General 
James  Abbott — Sir  Herbert  Edwardes — Bosworth  Smith's  Life  of  Lord 
Lawrence — Becher's  cultivation  and  accomplishments  —  Sir  Neville 
Chamberlain — Becher's  moral  influence — General  James  Abbott,  R.A., 
C.B. — His  unrequited  services — Mission  to  Khiva —Popularity  in  the 
Punjaub — His  literary  tastes  and  successes — Colonel  Sir  Henry  Yule, 
B.E.,  K.C.B. — Fine  character — Distinguished  literary  abilities — Marco 
Polo — General  Sir  James  Alexander,  R.A.,  K.C.B. — Sir  Henry  Lawrence, 
when  his  subordinate — Curious  characteristic  of  the  Lawrences — The 
Khyber  Pass — Jellalabad — Dr.  Brydone — Lady  Butler's  expressive  pic- 
ture— Colonel  Dennie's  singular  prophecy — Sir  James's  social  character- 
istics— Second  sight — Lord  Napier  of  Magdala — At  a  wedding — His  ser- 
vices at  the  Pei-ho  Kiver — Inefficiency  of  the  French  General — His 
meanness — Sir  Hope  Grant — General  "Count  Pa-li-kao" — Lord  Napier 
and  the  Lawrences — Lord  Napier's  characteristics  and  popularity  .  295-337 


CHAPTER  VI. 
LEGAL   CELEBEITIES. 

"Walter  Savage  Landor's  opinion  of  law — The  terrors  of  the  law — Law  and 
equity — Le  Code  Napoleon — Napoleon's  own  opinion  of  it — His  further 
intentions — Anecdote  of  a  Chancery  suit — "  Colour  " — Jack  Lee — His 
characteristics—  Successes  and  promotions  at  the  bar — Shrewdness  and 
humour — Peculiarities — Anecdotes — Jack  Lee  and  Erskine — Anecdote — 
"  Honest  Jack  Lee  " — His  admirers — Jack  Lee  and  Lord  Eldon — Anec- 
dotes of  circuit — His  hospitality — Wealth  and  county  position — Admiral 
Keppel's  handsome  behaviour  to  Lee  and  his  two  other  counsel— Lee's 
sudden  death — The  three  Lees — Dunning  (Lord  Ashburtou),  anecdotes  of 
— Circuit  anecdotes  of  Lee — Lee's  daughter  and  heiress — Anecdotes — 
Thirteen  at  table — Lord  Eldou — Liver  and  bacon — Anecdotes  remembered 
by  Mr.  Martin  Archer  Shee,  Q.C. — Lord  Stowell — Anecdote  of  Jekyll — 
Lord  Erskine's  inexhaustible  bons  mots — The  Great  Seal — Anecdotes — 
Erskine's  wig — Extempore  lines — Erskine's  ingenious  defences — Lord 
Westmorland — Sugden's  father — Lord  St.  Leonards — The  Great  Seal — Its 
history  and  adventures — Lord  Thurlow — Lord  Eldon — The  "  bags  " — 
Anecdotes  of  Lord  Eldon — John  Adolphus,  Q.C. — Charles  Philips  and 
Courvoisier — LordWm.  Russell — The  Emperor  Napoleon  III.  and  Charles 
Philips — Serjeant  Murphy — Popularity  of  John  Adolphus  at  the  Old 
Bailey — Anecdotes— His  wife  and  children — Defence  of  Thistlewood — 
John  Leycester  Adolphus,  Q.C. — His  discovery  of  the  author  of  Wavcrley 


CONTENTS.  xvii 


PAGE 

— Anecdotes — His  subsequent  intimacy  with  Sir  Walter — Adolphus's 
daughter — Leycester  Adolphus's  letters  from  Spain — Scott's  deliberate,  as 
well  as  implied,  denials  of  authorship — Testimony  of  Eogers  and 
Sheridan — Abbotsford — Hogg — Anecdotes — John  Leycester  Adolphus's 
widow — Her  anecdotes  of  George  III.'s  contemporaries — Of  William 
IV. — Lord  Brougham — Anecdotes  illustrative  of  his  character — His 
daughter — Her  early  death — Pathetic  epitaph  by  Marquis  of  Wellesley 
— Place  of  burial — The  Brougham  hoax — Anecdotes — Brougham's  ac- 
count of  Princess  Charlotte's  escapade — His  part  in  the  quarrels  of  the 
Royal  Family,  and  in  the  celebrated  trial — Success  as  an  advocate — 
Spencer  Perceval,  a  partisan  of  the  Queen,  shot — Bellingham — M.  Angelo 
Taylor— "The  chicken" — Macaulay  and  John  Wilson  Croker — Macaulay 
and  Brougham — Lord  Grey — Princess  de  Lieven — Samuel  Warren — 
"  £10,000"  a  year — Nathan  Meyer  Rothschild — Anecdotes — The  mother 
of  the  Rothschilds — Her  house,  equipage,  &c. —  R£-  Honble>  J.  A.  Roebuck, 
M.P. — Chisholm  Anstey,  M.P. — His  incidented  life — Curious  temper — A 
notorious  Q.C. — His  singular  courtship — Its  results — "Connexions  by 
marriage  " — Serjeant  Merewether — Captain  Hans  Busk — Personal  ap- 
pearance— Zeal  in  the  Volunteer  movement — Originated  by  him — 
Humour — Social  popularity — Varied  abilities — Political  pamphlets  and 
literary  work — Various  offices  he  filled— His  yacht — Life-ships — 
School  of  cookery — Mr.  Joseph  Parkes — Lawyer  and  politician — 
Married  granddaughter  of  Priestley — With  Huskisson  when  killed — 
Wrote  on  the  authorship  of  Junius — Many  influential  friends — All 
Radicals — Cultivated  mind — Winning  manners — His  daughter,  Miss 
Bessie  Parkes— Married  M.  Belloc  339-397 


CHAPTER   VII. 
AMONG   THE  FACULTY. 

Country  and  watering-place  practitioners— A  doctor  on  the  Pantiles— In  the 
olden  time — His  successor — Another,  and  yet  another — Some  of  his 
patients — A  conventional  London  physician — Dr.  Merriman — Sir  H. 
Holland— Sir  Astley  Cooper— George  IV.  and  Sir  Astley— The  doctor's 
carriage — A  physician's  accessories — Operation  on  the  King's  head — 
Details— Incidents  that  followed — Anecdotes  of  Sir  Astley — His  alarm  at 
the  King's  message— Sir  Astley  and  the  Marchioness  of  Salisbury— Sir 
Astley's  diary— Subjectivity  of  medical  opinion— Anecdote  of  Lady  Holland 
— Helplessness  of  patients — Illustrative  anecdote — Changes  in  medical 
science— Blood-letting— Anecdotes— Credulity  of  patients— A  useful  (?) 
consultation— Contradictory  diagnosis — Wits  and  doctors — Sir  William 
Kuighton's  opinion  of  medical  science — Dr.  Baillie's  opinion  of  the  value  of 
medicine — Medical  farces — Consultations — The  opinions  of  dramatists  and 
poets — Medical  murder  of  Lord  Byron — Of  the  Duke  of  Kent— Correspond- 
ence of  Gui  Patiu  and  Andre  Falconnet— Bleeding  v.  Antimony — Dr.  Reid's 


xviii  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

remark — The  bleeding  mania— Squire  "Waterton's  delusion — Warning  a 
patient  of  the  hopelessness  of  his  case — Illustrative  anecdote — Deathbed 
of  Balzac — An  English  surgeon — Saving  faith — Anecdote — Bread  pills — 
Mr.  Skey's  patient — Dr.  Elliotson — His  success  and  popularity — Change 
of  ideas — Conscientiousness — Mania  for  mesmerism — Loss  of  professional 
position — Seances  at  his  house — His  common-sense  prescription — Elliot- 
son  and  Haydon — Charles  Lever,  M.D. — English  physician  at  Brussels — 
Hatred  of  his  profession — Literary  proclivities,  gifts,  and  successes — A 
vegetarian  doctor — Amusing  anecdote — The  meat-market  at  Pisa — Vege- 
tarianism— Prince  Hohenlohe — His  miracles — Faith  in  them — Prayers 
answered  at  the  foot  of  the  letter — Mr.  Taylor,  the  well-known  Brighton 
apothecary — His  qualifications — Those  requisite  for  all  doctors — Mr. 
Eichard  Partridge — "  Dr.  Gruffy  " — Different  classes  of  doctors — George 
III.  and  Princess  Amelia's  doctor — Mr.  White  Cooper — His  diagnosis — 
Dr.  Wolcot  and  his  oculist — Taylor,  the  oculist — Le  Docteur  Nelaton — 
Anecdote — His  success  with  Garibaldi — Dr.  Blundell — His  facetious 
patient — Meaning  of  the  letters  M.D. — Dr.  Eadcliffe  and  the  South  Sea 
Bubble — Anecdote — Fees — The  Harley  Street  physician's  clever  ma- 
noeuvre— Erasmus  Wilson — The  physician's  waiting-room — An  empyric's 
cure  of  consumption — Dr.  Monro — Head  physician  at  Luke's — A  lunatic 
entertainment — Details — Visit  to  Bedlam — Dadd,  the  parricide — Samuel 
Cartwright,  the  fashionable  dentist — A  solemn  farce — Success  of  charla- 
tanism— Dr.  Buchan — An  aged  shepherd  his  descendant — Immense 
success  of  Dr.  Buchan's  Domestic  Medicine — Translated  into  all 
languages — Anecdotes — Legendary  recipes — Dr.  Kitchiner — The  remark- 
able universality  of  his  genius,  his  wealth  exempting  him  from  practising 
as  a  physician — Unique  character — Protean  aptitudes — Fascinating 
manners — Details  of  his  many-sided  life — His  practical  information  on 
many  subjects — Fondness  for  children — His  friends — Entertainments — 
Details — Clock-work  household — With  him  everything  a  science — 
Sudden  death — His  son — His  tragic  end — Universal  criticisms  on  medi- 
cine— Moliere  and  Louis  XIV. — Eabelais'  medical  prejudices — Zinimer- 
mann's  answer  to  Frederick  the  Great — General  remarks  on  the 
nobleness  of  the  calling  ,  399-459 


ILLUSTBATIONS. 


PAGE 

LORD  HOUGHTON  ........  Frontispiece 

LYING  IN  STATE  OF  GEOEGE  IV 6 

JOHN  WILSON  CKOKEE,  ESQ.,  M.P.  (Secretary  of  the  Admiralty)  .  .  9 

THE  KING 18 

"  PEINCE  FLOBIZEL " 22 

QUEEN  CAROLINE            ........  23 

WELLINGTON  EQUESTRIAN  PORTRAIT  .  .  .  To  face  page  25 

MARQUIS  ANGLESEY  EQUESTRIAN  PORTRAIT  .  „  27 
"LAST  SHOOTING  EXCURSION  OF  H.R.H.  THE  DUKE  OF 

YORK" 31 

THE  GREAT  CHAMBER  AT  ST.  JAMES'S  PALACE  (the  Duke  of  York  Lying 

in  State)      .........  32 

H.R.H.  EDWARD,  DUKE  OF  KENT  AND  STRATHEARN,  E.G.,  K.T.,  K.S.P., 

etc.,  &c.  .........  34 

THE  INFANT  PRINCESS  VICTORIA 36 

MARSHAL  SOULT  50 

GEORGE  CANNING 60 

THE  DUCHESS  OF  ALBANS  ....  .  .  64 

JOHN  ELWES,  "THE  MISER" 86 

ALFRED  COUNT  D'ORSAY  (Author  of"  a  Journal")  .  .  .  .113 

COUNTESS  OF  BLESSINGTON 127 

A  HERO  OF  THE  CHASE 147 

H.E.  SIR  WILLIAM  GORE  OUSELEY  (Amlatsador  Extraordinary  t»  the  Court 

of  Persia)    .........  153 


xx  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

THOMAS   DAY 182 

GEORGE  ELIOT     .........  &S 

THE  TRIPLE  PORTRAIT  OF  CHARLES  I.  .  .  .  .  .216 

E.  L.  BULWER 240 

BULWER  SHAVING 241 

DR.  SAMUEL  BIRCH,  THE  EGYPTOLOGIST              ....  244 

MRS.  FRY 268 

MRS.  PROCTER 286 

F.-M.  THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON,  E.G.,  &c.,  &c.       .  .  .  .298 

A  TRIP  TO  DOVER     (H.B.)          .....           To  face  page  303 

WELLINGTON  BY  D'ORSAY 311 

"THE  DUKE'S"  ROOM  AT  WALMER,  WHERE  HE  DIED             .            .  313 

LA  BELLE  ALLIANCE 316 

GENERAL   JOHN   REID   BE  CHER,  R.E.,  C.B.  (one  of  Sir  Henry  Lawrence's 

Old  Punjaub  Staff)              .......  318 

GENERAL  JAS.  ABBOTT,  R.A.,  C.B 324 

JOHN  DUNNING,  LORD  ASHBURTON 347 

LORD  ERSKINE 358 

A  VIEW  OF  WESTMORELAND,  OR  AN  IMPRESSION  OF  THE  PRIVY  SEAL  359 

LORD  ELDON               .........  365 

WALTER  SCOTT,  AS  A  CHILD 372 

LORD  BROUGHAM 375 

"THE  GHEBER,"— BROUGHAM— WILLIAM  IV.     (H.B.)       .            .            .  383 

NATHAN  MEYER  ROTHSCHILD 386 

DR.  BUCHAN           .........  450 

DR.  KITCHINER           .......  To  face  page  455 


COURT    GOSSIP. 


"...  nni]  a  scilicet  omnibus, 
Quicumque  terrse  munere  vescirnur, 
Enavigancla,  sive  reges 

Sive  mopes  erimus  coloni." 

HORACE,  Carm.  ii.  14. 


GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY 


CHAPTER   I. 

COURT   GOSSIP. 

"  Behold  how  men  do  run  to  see  a  King  go  by." — JEREMY  TAYLOR. 
"  Les  erreurs  ties  rois  sout  des  secrets  d'etat.'' — CARD.  DUBOIS. 

I  RE  MEMBER  being  taken  by  ruy  father  one  morning,  in  King 
the  year  1829,  to  Constitution  Hill,  in  order  to  profit  by  Georee  IV- 
the  rare  occasion  of  King  George  IV. 's  driving  out  in 
London,  to  obtain  a  sight  of  His  Majesty.  The  King  was  not 
onl}-  seriously  out  of  health  for  some  time  before  his  death, 
but  his  personal  appearance  was  so  visibly  affected  by  the 
complicated  diseases,  to  which  he  had  become  a  victim,  that 
he  showed  himself  as  little  as  possible  in  public.  It  was  not 
often,  therefore,  that  he  was  to  be  seen,  and  apparently  the 
intimation  my  father  had  received  was  a  private  one,  for  the 
locality  was  entirely  deserted. 

As  we  strolled  along  the  road,  we  suddenly  heard  the 
clatter  of  hoofs,  and  two  royal  outriders  in  undress  livery 
came  galloping  along  at  full  speed,  followed  at  a  short 
distance  by  an  open  barouche  and  four,  with  two  postilions ; 
two  more  outriders  bringing  up  the  rear. 

Leaning  back  in  the  carriage  and  nearly  covered  by  the 
leather   apron,  were  two  gentlemen  enveloped  in  far-lined 
coats ;    for,  beside  the  King,  sat  the   unpopular  Duke  of  The  Duke  of 
Cumberland,    his   countenance   strikingly   unprepossessing,  Cumberlan<1- 


GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 


and  his  defective  eye  *  plainly  discernible.  The  King's  face, 
though  bloated,  wore  a  pleasant  expression,  and  he  bowed 
courteously,  with  a  bland  smile,  when  my  father  lifted  his 
hat.  Both  Princes  were  muffled  up  in  those  wonderful  rolls 
of  neck-cloth,  having  the  effect  of  bandages  round  the  throat, 
and  apparently  requiring  throats  of  peculiar  length  to  suit 
them  ;  but  the  fur  collars  in  this  case  concealed  a  good  part 
of  this  now  antiquated  attire. 

The  carriage  drove  past  at  a  rapid  pace,  and  that  is  all  I 
ever  saw  of  George  IV.,  who  was  taken  seriously  ill  the 
following  year,  and  died  on  the  25th  of  June,  1830. 

We  were  then  at  Brighton,  where,  alone,  the  King  had 
remained  popular;  for  since  the  year  1782,  when  he  had  taken 
a  fancy  to  the  place,  building  his  Pavilion  there  in  1784,  he 
had  been  a  constant  visitor  to  this  Pare  aux  cerfs,  where  his 
vagaries  were  winked  at,  in  consideration  of  his  partiality  for 
the  place.  Having  been  the  cause  of  its  prosperity,  Brighton 
might  well  dread  the  day  when  its  royal  patron  would  be 
removed,  and  no  wonder  bulletins  from  Windsor,  where  the 
King  lay  dying,  were  industriously  posted  up  and  circulated 
all  over  the  place,  as  fresh  information  arrived ;  knots  of 
eager  inhabitants  might  be  seen  grouped  round  these  ominous 
notices,  scanning  the  intelligence  they  brought  and  discus- 
sing the  probable  ultimate  result,  about  which  there  could 
now  be  little  doubt. 

*  Prince  George  of  Cumberland,  the  Duke's  son,  was  also  blind,  and  probably 
many  would  attribute  this  misfortune  to  heredity,  for  George  III.,  as  is  well  known, 
became  blind,  and  George  IV.  partially  lost  his  sight  towards  the  end  of  his  life. 
The  commencement  of  the  blindness  of  Prince  George  is  mentioned  by  Princess 
de  Lieven  in  one  of  her  letters  to  Lord  Grey,  when  referring  to  "the  sudden  trouble 
that  had  come  upon  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Cumberland  by  the  discovery  that 
their  little  son,  Prince  George,  could  no  longer  see."  One  eye  had  been  injured  by 
an  accident  when  he  was  quite  young,  and  the  sight  was  gone;  the  other  may  have 
become  affected  from  sympathetic  action :  the  Princess  writes.  "  The  poor  child 
sees  absolutely  nothing  ;  they  turn  his  face  to  the  sun  and  he  cannot  perceive  the 
light,"  I  have  often  seen  the  two  little  Princes  George  (of  Cumberland  and  of 
Cambridge),  who  were  of  the  same  age,  and  also  of  the  age  of  "  Princess  Victoria," 
ride  past  our  windows  in  Great  Cumberland  Place  on  small  ponies,  their  grooms 
following  in  undress  liveries. 


DEATH  OF  GEORGE  IV. 


A  Sussex  yokel  spelling  out  one  of  these  bulletins — "  Last 
night,  the  King  slept  at  intervals  " — was  much  scandalized, 
that  the}'  should  have  ventured  to  move  him  to  "  Intervals, 
wherever  that  might  be,"  when  he  was  in  so  precarious  a 
state.  The  last  time  the  King  drove  out  was  on  the  25th 
of  April,  and  one  of  his  doctors  had  already  given  him  over 
then,  though  two  others  thought  he  might  be  saved  for  a 
little  while,  but  he  himself  had  no  idea  how  serious  was  his 
condition. 

In  May,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  advised  the  Bishop  of 
Winchester  to  break  the  news  to  His  Majesty,  whose  state 
had  then  become  much  worse,  for  he  would  lose  his  head 
every  now  and  then,  sometimes  for  hours,  and  obstinately 
clung  to  many  delusions;  among  them,  to  one  under  which 
he  had  often  laboured  previously,  viz.,  that  he  had  been 
present  at  Waterloo  and  had  gained  the  battle  :  indeed, 
one  day  at  a  dinner,  some  time  previously,  he  had  not 
only  re-asserted  this,  but  had  appealed  to  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington to  confirm  his  statement.  The  Duke  discreetly 
replied — "  I  have  heard  your  Majesty  say  so  before." 

It  was  not  until  the  8th  of  June  that  the  King  was 
informed  of  the  hopelessness  of  his  case ;  he  received  the 
intimation  with  surprising  firmness,  and  died  on  the  25th  of 
that  month.  The  Duke  of  Wellington,  alluding  to  the 
event,  remarked,  "He  died  like  a  man;  I  always  said  he 
would."  It  is  curious  that  at  the  moment  of  the  King's 
death  there  was  no  one  in  the  room  with  him  but  two 
valets.  Sir  Thomas  Hammond  declared  the  physicians 
were  not  present,  though  they  said  they  were. 

A  curious  revelation  of  some  points  of  the  King's  character 
appeared  in  a  discovery  made  after  his  death  :  though  his 
ways  were  utterly  reckless  and  unscrupulously  extrava- 
gant, he  had  for  years  been  in  the  habit  of  hoarding  in  the 
most  miserly  way  all  his  cast-off  clothes,  which  were  found 
preserved  in  excellent  order  in  his  wnrdrobe  ;  moreover,  he 
clung  to  them  with  such  tenacity  that  he  kept  in  his  head 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


an  accurate  catalogue  of  all  this  defroque,  and  knew 
the  exact  spot  in  which  each  item  was  to  be  found, 
would  now  and  then  ask  for  some  particular  coat, 
boots,  describing  it  unmistakably. 

His   habits   of  gallantry  were  so  notorious  that 
were   scarcely  surprised  to  find   that  he  had  had 
accredited  mistresses,  and  the  packets  of  billet-doux, 
garters,  locks   of  hair,    faded   flowers,   &c.,   found 
away,  bore  their  testimony  to  the  multiplicity  of  his 


so  well 
that  he 
hat,  or 

people 
sixteen 
gloves, 
stowed 

adven- 


LYIXG  IN  STATE  OF  GEOEG 


tures  in  the  "  pays  clu  tendre"  More  than  fifty  pocket-books 
were  scattered  among  his  private  belongings,  each  con- 
taining money  in  smaller  or  larger  amounts,  apparently 
laid  by  and  forgotten ;  still  when  all  these  sums  were 
collected,  they  formed  an  aggregate  of  £10,000  !  Sir 
Thomas  Hammond  seems  to  have  been  aware  of  this  hoard- 
ing propensity  of  the  King's,  and  used  to  relate,  in  proof  of 
his  keeping  large  sums  stored  up,  that,  one  day  going  out 
with  him  for  a  walk,  the  King,  with  a  small  key  which  he 


THE   KING'S   HOARDINGS. 


wore,  unlocked  a  secret  drawer,  and,  taking  out  bank  notes 
of  various  values  to  the  amount  of  £3,000,  selected  a  small 
note  which  he  put  in  his  pocket,  restoring  the  rest  to  its 
place.  Sir  Thomas's  conviction  was  that  he  must  have 
saved  up  at  least  £600,000  during  his  reign. 

I  remember  hearing  all  about  the  lying  in  state,  which 
was  at  Windsor,  and  a  gloomy  affair  it  must  have 'been; 
the  concourse  was  so  tremendous  that  it  was  difficult  even 
for  ticket-holders  to  see  anything ;  the  room  was  spacious, 
but  densely  crowded,  even  though  only  a  certain  number 
were  admitted  at  a  time,  and  the  spectators  were  passed 
through  so  quickly  that  it  was  difficult  for  any  to  take  in 
the  scene ;  the  walls  being  hung  with  black  and  the 
windows  darkened,  the  only  light  was  from  the  dull  and 
uncertain  flames  of  the  tall  wax  candles  that  surrounded 
the  state  bed,  so  that  the  impression  left  even  on  those  who 
saw  it  best,  was  a  confused  one. 

George  IV.  was  generally  unpopular  during  his  life,  and 
his  memory  was  not  honoured.  The  year's  mourning, 
therefore,  that  followed  his  demise  must  have  been  con- 
formed to,  out  of  loyalty  to  the  principle,  and  not  to  the 
monarch,  for  whom  no  one  entertained  any  personal  affec- 
tion, scarcely  even  any  respect.  It  is  singular  that,  openly 
disapproved  and  disliked  as  was  George  IV.,  his  life  was 
only  twice  attempted — once  in  1817,  when  he  was  fired 
at,  and  the  ball  lodged  in  the  lining  of  the  carriage  ;  and 
once  by  an  Irishman  named  Piercey,  who  bribed  the  officers 
of  the  kitchen  to  poison  him.  The  plot  was  nipped  in 
the  bud,  Piercey  was  seized,  tried,  and  condemned  to 
death  ;  but  at  the  King's  desire  the  punishment  was 
< -ni Minuted  to  five  years'  imprisonment.  We  hear  so 
much  of  the  untoward  characteristics  of  this  monarch 
that  we  are  surprised  to  learn  he  was  very  tender- 
hearted when  sentences  of  a  capital,  or  even  of  a  severe, 
nature  were  passed  on  condemned  criminals,  regretting  the 
Draconian  severity  of  the  English  criminal  laws.  In  the 


8  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

case  of  a  boy  of  thirteen,  Henry  Newbury,  condemned  to 
transportation  for  life,  the  Eoyal  prerogative  was  again 
exercised,  the  King  writing  from  Brighton  to  Sir  Robert 
Peel  to  obtain  a  commutation  to  a  term  of  confinement  in 
the  House  of  Correction.  Perhaps  this  Prince's  greatest 
mistake  was  in  choosing  friends  of  more  than  equivocal 
character ;  but  if  he  recklessly  admitted  to  his  intimacy 
persons  who  had  the  bad  taste  to  take  advantage  of 
the  freedom  he  allowed  them,  he  was  not  slow  to  resent  a 
liberty ;  he  liked  to  be  amused,  but  did  not  choose  to  pay 
too  dearly  for  the  society  of  those  who  amused  him. 

One  of  these  was  John  Wilson  Croker,  to  whom  he 
gave  a  well-merited  lesson.  Croker,  though  he  had  a 
serious  side  to  his  character,  was  a  joker,  and  so  long  as 
his  witticisms  w7ere  kept  within  limits,  the  King  delighted 
in  them ;  but  occasionally  he  abused  the  Eoyal  favour,  for- 
getting the  laws  of  good  breeding  as  well  as  of  prudence. 

Once  when  the  Court  was  at  the  Pavilion,  and  Croker 
was  in  attendance,  the  company  being  scattered  about  in 
groups,  on  a  Sunday  evening  after  dinner,  Croker  happened 
to  find  himself  in  that  of  which  the  Duke  of  Clarence  was 
the  centre.  The  Duke  was  criticizing  the  management  of 
the  Admiralty,  especially  directing  his  sarcasms  against 
Croker  (at  that  time  Secretary  to  the  First  Lord,  and 
derisively  styled  by  naval  men  "the  whole  board  of  the 
the  Admiralty  ").  Among  these  remarks  the  Duke  said— 

"  When  I'm  King,  I'll  be  my  own  'First  Lord,'  *  and 
depend  on  it  John  Wilson  Croker  won't  be  my  Secretary." 


::  When  the  Duke  came  to  the  throne  as  William  IV.,  he  had  no  desire  to  be 
"First  Lord,"  and  very  shortly  after  his  accession  the  Eight  Hon.  Sir  James 
Graham  replaced  Lord  Melville  in  that  office.  Indeed,  the  King  had  had  enough 
of  it  during  'the  previous  reign,  and  found  the  duties  while  they  fell  to  his  lot,  so 
irksome,  and  the  responsibility  they  entailed  so  onerous,  that  the  anxiety  affected 
his  health  somewhat  seriously,  and  his  son,  the  Earl  of  Minister,  discerning 
the  inadequacy  of  his  own  influence,  begged  Sir  Astley  Cooper  to  advise  him  to 
resign. 


GEORGE   IV.   AND   J.   W.   CROKER. 


"  Does  your  Eoyal  Highness  remember,"  replied  Croker, 
"  what  English  king  was  his  own  First  Lord  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  say  I  do,"  answered  the  Duke. 

'•Well,  it  was  James  II.,"  said  Croker,  and,  not  un- 
naturally, the  reply  caused  a  general  laugh  among  those 
near  enough  to  catch  it. 

The  King,  who  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,, 
hearing  this  expression  of  mirth,  called  out — 

"  ^Yllat's  the  joke  ?  One  of  your  good  things,  Croker,. 
no  doubt?" 


JOHN  Wii.sox  C'KUXKII,  ESQ.,  M.P. 
(Secretary  of  the  Admiralty.) 

"No,  indeed,  your  Majesty;  but  your  royal  brother  is- 
telling  us  what  he  means  to  do  in  the  navy  when  he  come& 
to  the  throne,"  replied  Croker,  with  most  uncourtier-like- 
absence  of  mind. 

The  King  did  not  reply,  but  withdrew.  Next  morning, 
however,  Croker  received  the  King's  command  to  attend 
him  in  his  bedroom.  He  found  His  Majesty  very  serious, 
who  remarked  to  him  with  a  certain  severity  of  tone — 

"  I  was  annoyed  at  your  exposing  my  brother's  nonsense 


10  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

under  niy  roof  last  night ;  and,  in  the  next  place,  your 
repeating  what  he  said  he  should  do  when  I  am  no  longer 
king ;  let  me  request  there  may  be  no  recurrence  of  similar 
utterances.  Do  not  believe  I  am  offended ;  but  it  is  dis- 
tasteful to  me." 

The  King's  features  then  relaxed  a  little,  and  he  held  out 
his  hand  for  the  Secretary  to  kiss,  dismissing  him  to  ponder 
on  the  ugly  predicament  into  which  he  had  been  betrayed. 

Although  when  among  the  King's  chosen  companions, 
Croker  may  have  occasionally  forgotten  himself,  he  was  a 
man  of  an  altogether  different  stamp  from  the  Brummels 
and  others  who  toadied  to  Royalty.  His  social  status,  his 
education,  and  his  mental  ability  were  of  a  very  much 
higher  order,  and  he  proved  himself  a  speaker  and  a  writer 
of  no  mean  parts. 

Croker's  powers  of  satire  were  keen,  and  he  could  be 
brilliantly  witty,*  but  too  often  at  the  expense  of  others, 
and  without  any  consideration  for  their  feelings. 

The  first  publication  which  called  attention  to  his  capa- 
bilities was  his  Intercepted  Letter  from  China,  written  in  a 
spirit  all  the  more  daring  that  it  was  published  anony- 
mously ;  also  he  found  great  amusement  in  hearing  it  talked 
of  and  admired  in  his  presence  by  those  who  had  no  sus- 
picion that  he  was  its  author. 


:;:  The  following  may  serve  to  indicate  that  Mr.  Croker's  wit  was  not  always 
either  ready  or  brilliant.  He  had  been  asked  for  a  contribution  to  Lady  Blessing- 
ton's  album,  and  this  is  his  answer  : — 

"  ADMIRALTY,  May  6,  1820. 

"DEAR   LADY   BLESSIXGTON, — I   have   received    from   Lord   Blessington   your 
commands  for  the  third  time.     I  beg  pardon  for  having  been  so  tardy ;  but  the 
•enclosed  will  show  you  that  I  have  at  last  literally  and  implicitly  obeyed  you. 
"  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

"  Dear  Lady  Blessington, 

"  Your  very  faithful  servant, 

"  J.  W.  CROKER. 
"  You've  asked  me  three  times, 
For  four  lines  with  two  rhymes ; 
Too  long  I've  delayed, 
But  at  last  you're  obeyed  !  " 


CHARACTER   OF   J.   W.    CROKER.  11 

Croker's  subtle  and  able  defence  of  the  Duke  of  York 
agaiust  the  imputations  of  Colonel  Wardle,  which  entirely 
defeated  the  latter,  brought  him  into  favourable  notice,  and 
he  made  some  stir  in  the  political  world  as  M.P.  for  Down- 
patrick,  as  Q.C.  at  the  Irish  bar,  and  also  as  a  writer, 
though  in  the  latter  capacity  he  laid  himself  open  to  well- 
merited  criticism.  His  political  gossip  and  his  amusing 
conversation  procured  him  frequent  invitations  to  the 
Prince  Regent's  table  ;  but  he  was  well  known  to  have  as 
little  feeling  as  principle,  and  to  take  a  singular  pleasure  in 
malicious  criticisms,  especially  of  authors  ;  not  sparing  even 
his  intimate  friends  and  those  from  whom  he  had  received 
favours.  It  was  said  that  he  established  the  Quarterly 
lieview  for  the  sake  of  having  at  command  an  influential 
organ,  by  the  help  of  which  he  could  draw  attention  to  the 
shortcomings  of  other  writers.  There  were  no  pains  he 
would  not  take  to  discover  and  expose  whatsoever  he 
thought  would  be  of  disadvantage  to  another,  especially  if 
an  author ;  and  he  has  been  severely  censured  by  Macaulay 
and  others  for  putting  himself  to  great  trouble  to  be  able  to 
publish  to  the  world  the  fact  that  Fanny  Burney  was  nearer 
twenty-seven  than  "  seventeen,"  as  she  tried  to  make  people 
believe,  when  she  wrote  her  Evelina :  true,  she  gave 
herself  so  many  airs  about  this  book,  which  it  is  plain  she 
thought  the  finest  specimen  of  literature  ever  produced, 
that  she  deserved  "  taking  down."  At  the  same  time  the 
proverb  about  "glass  houses"  may  be  applied  to  John 
Wilson  Croker,  whose  singular  errors  in  his  edition  of 
Eoswell's  Life  of  Johnson  (as  pointed  out  by  Macaulay), 
hold  him  up  to  posterity  as  little  short  of  a  literary 
humbug.*  The  most  creditable  episode  in  his  life  was 
his  secretaryship  to  the  Admiralty,  and  he  also  deserves 
praise  for  the  excellent  and  successful  idea  of  founding  the 
Athenaeum  Club. 

*  See  Macvey  Napier's  Correspondence. 


12  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

If  the  King  reprimanded  the  Et.  Hon.  John  Wilson 
Croker  for  an  unbecoming  freedom,  he  also  knew  how  to 
overlook  a  snub  when  it  came  from  a  different  quarter,  and 
when  he  could  not  but  admit  its  justice. 

A  story  told  by  Colonel  Jones  of  the  Guards,  nicknamed 
"  Buffer  Jones,"  shows  how,  on  one  occasion,  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  with  his  blunt,  straightforward  sense  of  duty, 
felt  himself  obliged  to  evade  the  King's  orders,  when, 
according  to  his  own  knowledge  of  what  was  right,  it  would 
have  been  mischievous  to  obey  them. 

The  command  of  a  regiment  having  fallen  vacant,  George 
IV.  said  to  Wellington,  -who  was  on  a  visit  at  Windsor, 
"  Arthur,  there  is  a  regiment  vacant ;  gazette  Lord  -  -  to 
the  vacancy." 

"It  is  impossible,  please  your  Majesty ;  there  are  generals 
who  have  seen  much  service,  now  advanced  in  life,  whose 
turn  should  be  first  served." 

"  Never  mind  that,  Arthur,  gazette  Lord  -    — ." 

The  Duke  bowed,  and,  splendide  mendax,  went  straight  up 
to  town  and  gazetted  Sir  Ronald  Fergusson,  whose  services 
entitled  him  to  the  vacancy.  The  King  had  the  discretion 
to  wink  at  this  disobedience  on  the  part  of  Wellington,  and 
made  no  further  allusion  to  the  matter.* 


*  During  the  reign  of  George  III.  a  matter  of  this  kind  was  managed  differently. 
A  situation  of  some  importance  in  the  Government  having  become  vacant,  the 
King  heedlessly  promised  it  to  an  individual  he  wished  to  oblige  ;  but  the  Cabinet 
had  other  views,  and  resolved  these  should  be  carried  out.  Accordingly,  a  blank 
form  was  drawn  up  with  the  intention  of  paying  His  Majesty  the  empty  compli- 
ment of  asking  what  name  should  be  inserted  in  the  commission.  Drawing  up  the 
form,  however,  was  one  thing,  braving  the  royal  displeasure  was  another,  and  the 
members  of  the  Cabinet  were  all  so  unwilling  to  undertake  making  the  application, 
that  they  at  last  agreed  to  decide  the  question  by  lot.  The  task  fell  to  the  witty 
Lord  Chesterfield,  who  boldly  entered  the  royal  closet  with  the  blank  commission 
in  one  hand,  and  a  pen  in  the  other,  respectfully  soliciting  His  Majesty's  pleasure. 
After  some  discussion  on  the  King's  choice,  which  the  noble  lord  delicately,  but 
firmly  demonstrated  to  His  Majesty  could  not  be  complied  with,  the  King  angrily 
turned  from  him,  saying,  '•  Then  give  it  to  the  Devil."  Chesterfield  hereupon  made 
as  if  about  to  fill  up  the  blank,  but  suddenly  paused  to  inquire — '•  Would  your 


WELLINGTON   COMMANDEK-IN-CHIEF.  13 

The  King's  wishes  were  baffled  in  a  somewhat  similar 
way  when,  on  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  York,  he  had  set 
his  mind  on  heing  Commander-in-chief,  and  having  consulted 
no  one,  nor  taken  any  one  into  his  confidence  hut  Sir 
Herbert  Taylor,  he  thought  he  had  arranged  the  whole 
matter.  His  plan  was  to  have  "  a  secretary  who  could  give 
directions  in  his  name,"  "  Taylor  was  to  be  Adjutant- 
General,"  and  "  some  provision  was  to  be  made  for 
Torrens." 

Sir  Herbert  listened  respectfully,  but  unhesitatingly  told 
His  Majesty  the  thing  was  quite  impossible. 

Peel,  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  project,  wrote  earnestly 
to  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  conjuring  him  to  co-operate  with 
him  in  frustrating  a  scheme  which  would  give,  not  to  the 
King,  but  to  those  who  could  influence  him,  the  powers  of 
Commander-in-chief,  so  that  the  idea  could  not  be  enter- 
tained for  an  instant. 

The  King  at  last  sent  for  Peel,  who  was  not  slow  to  make 
his  Majesty  understand  that  Wellington  alone  could  assume 
the  vacant  office  :  the  King  probably  recognized  the  justice 
of  the  argument,  for  he  acquiesced,  and  was  perfectly  satis- 
fied :  the  Duke  accepted,  and  the  matter  was  set  at  rest; 
in  this  as  on  all  other  occasions,  Wellington  had  no  thought 
for  himself,  his  desire  was  alwaj^s  to  act  so  as  to  be  most 
useful  to  the  country.  He  has  been  most  justly  described, 
as,  in  whatever  capacity,  true  to  the  high  standard  he  had 
set  before  himself,  exhibiting  a  noble  example  of  the  purest 
disinterestedness,  and  commanding  universal  respect  by  his 
perfect  and  undeviating  good  faith,  inflexible  justice, 
scrupulous  honesty,  and  invariable  truthfulness. 

In  November,  1812,  a  curious  accident  which  one  of  my 
uncles  happened  to  witness,  and  which  might  have  been  at- 
tended with  serious  consequences,  befell  the  Prince  Kegent. 

Majesty  please  that  this  commission  should  follow  the  usual  form — '  To  our  trusty 
and  well-beloved  cousin,  the  Devil'?  "  At  this  the  King  could  not  resist  a  smile, 
.•aid  the  Cabinet  carried  the  day. 


14  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

His  Eoyal  Highness  went  in  State  to  open  the  new  parliament 
on  that  day.  It  was  a  great  occasion,  for  eight  years  had 
passed  since  the  King  had  attended  Parliament,  and  applica- 
tions for  tickets  poured  in  from  every  quarter  :  there  was  to  be 
a  great  show  of  royalty ;  the  Princesses  Augusta,  Elizabeth, 
and  Mary,  with  the  little  Princess  Charlotte  of  Wales,  were 
escorted  to  the  House  by  the  Duke  of  Cumberland. 

As  the  State  coach  had  been  long  out  of  use,  and  the 
eight  cream-coloured  horses  had  never  worked  together 
in  harness  before,  a  groom,  wearing  State  livery,  was 
appointed  to  hold  the  bridle  of  each  horse,  under  special 
instructions  to  be  particularly  careful  in  turning  the  corner 
of  Cleveland  Eow  into  Stable  Yard.  The  coachman,  perhaps 
from  over  anxiety,  took  too  great  a  sweep  at  this  critical 
point,  and  the  ofF-hind  wheel  came  into  collision  with  the 
post  at  the  corner  of  the  pavement  leading  to  Stafford 
House,  smashed  up  the  kerb-stone  for  some  distance, 
and,  breaking  away  the  bar,  threw  the  State  coach- 
man off  the  box.  The  man  fell  between  the  wheels,  but 
fortunately  was  able  to  rise  again  so  quickly,  that  with  the 
help  of  two  of  the  grooms,  he  was  extricated  before  he  had 
sustained  any  injury  ;  in  fact,  he  did  not  even  drop  the  reins, 
and  was  able  to  mount  again  instantly.  The  Prince  looked 
out  of  the  carriage  window,  asked  what  had  happened,  and 
before  proceeding,  ascertained  the  fact  of  the  coachman's 
safety.  Later  in  life  he  did  not  often  indulge  in  this  kind  of 
consideration  for  others ;  but,  surrounded  as  he  was,  it  is 
wonderful  there  was  any  good  left  in  him ;  it  is  not  to  be 
supposed  he  ever  heard  the  truth  from  any  one,  nor  did  he 
perhaps  care  to  hear  it. 

The  Princess  Charlotte,  though  so  young,  seems,  on  the 
other  hand,  to  have  had  much  good  sense ;  frankness  was 
an  integral  feature  in  her  own  character,  and  she  greatly 
valued  it  in  others. 

A  certain  Italian  professor  haviug  been  engaged  to  instruct 
her  in  playing  and  singing,  was  asked  to  remain  near  the 


ROYALTY   ABOVE    GRAMMAR.  15- 

piano  on  the  occasion  of  a  large  party  at  Warwick  House, 
at  which  she  was  to  perform.  The  young  Princess  was  of 
course  vehemently  applauded ;  but  perfectly  conscious  of 
having  failed,  when  the  company  had  left,  she  appealed  to 
the  master  to  give  her  his  opinion.  He  at  once  replied  that 
"  Her  Eoyal  Highness  had  sung  divinely  and  played  charm- 
ingly." The  royal  pupil  made  no  observation,  but  when  the 
Signor  next  came  to  give  his  lesson,  she  ordered  one  of  the 
servants  to  pay  him  what  was  due,  and  to  let  him  know  that 
"  she  wished  to  discontinue  his  instructions  in  future," 
adding  that  "  she  was  disappointed  in  a  professor  who  could 
imagine  she  would  prefer  being  flattered  to  being  cor- 
rected, and  who  would  encourage  her  in  exposing  herself  to 
ridicule." 

There  seems  to  have  been  a  curious  neglect  of  educa- 
tion as  at  present  understood,  at  this  Court,  and  according 
to  many  passages  in  chronicles  and  correspondence  of  the- 
time,  correctness  of  speech  held  a  secondary  place  in  royal 
estimation.  In  Fanny  Barney's  diary,  under  date  August 
3,  1788,  where  she  speaks  of  a  dangerous  epidemic  styled 
"influenza,"  as  pervading  the  country,  she  mentions  its 
having  attacked  herself  when  in  attendance  on  the  Queen. 
The  King  having  been  informed  by  Her  Majesty,  at  once 
requested  the  attendance  of  Mr.  Clerk,  the  apothecary,, 
who  was  at  the  moment  with  one  of  the  Princesses.  When 
Clerk  appeared,  on  hearing  the  King  say,  "  Here's  another 
patient  for  you,  Mr.  Clerk,"  ho  took  it  into  his  head  that  it 
was  the  Queen  who  required  his  services,  and  remained 
bowing  and  waiting  for  Her  Majesty  to  speak,  the  good  old 
King  standing  by  and  enjoying  the  joke.  When  it  became- 
evident  that  there  was  no  question  of  the  Queen,  the 
poor  man,  becoming  more  and  more  embarrassed,  turned  to 
the  Princess  Augusta  who  at  once  exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  no, 
thank  God,  it's  not  me  !  " 

The  Princess  Elizabeth  stood  near,  and  the  poor  apothe- 
cary made  sure  that  in  addressing  Her  Koyal  Highness,  he 


16  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

must  at  last  be  right:  but  no!  the  King,  "regardless  of 
grammar,"  intervened  with  "  No,  doctor,  it's  not  her.'"  Of 
course  it  was  now  explained  that  the  "new  patient"  was 
"the  authoress  of  Evelina,"  as  that  self-centred  lady  loved 
to  call  herself;  but  if  I  have  given  this  extract  it  is  to  suggest 
the  probability  that  the  Queen  and  Princesses  really  needed 
the  services  of— to  quote  Lady  Anne  Hamilton — "a  very  clever 
and  scientific  gentleman  who  resided  in  London,  and  was 
appointed  by  Her  Majesty  to  teach  herself  and  the  six  Prin- 
cesses geography,  astronomy,  arithmetic,  and  (not  '  the  use 
of  the  globes';  but)  a  much  more  practical  science,  the  nature 
of  the  funds.''1  (!)  "Besides  this,  he  was  asked  as  a  favour 
io  settle  the  very  deranged  accounts  of  the  Princesses  : 
— evidently  they  needed  financial  coaching.  His  expenses 
were  considerable  in  attending  the  Eoyal  Family,  as  he  was 
always  obliged  to  go  fall-dressed,  in  a  bag-wig  and  silk 
stockings,  to  hire  carriages  for  the  journey  to  Windsor,  to  live 
.at  an  inn,  and  to  sleep  there  if  they  chose  to  take  lessons  on 
two  following  days,  by  which  he  was  obliged  to  neglect 
and  disoblige  his  private  scholars." 

Lady  Anne  goes  on  to  assert  that  "  for  all  this  he  received 
no  remuneration  ivhateuer  :  "  perhaps  the  honour  of  instruct- 
ing a  crowned  Queen  and  six  grown-up  Princesses,  in  the 
three  "E's,"  and  in  the  mysteries  of  the  funds,  was  con- 
sidered sufficient  compensation ;  but  Lady  Anne's  state- 
ments respecting  the  Court  must  always  be  taken  cum 
grano. 

George  IV.  was  by  no  means  without  cultivation,  and  proved 
himself  a  liberal  as  well  as  a  competent,  patron  of  art  and  a 
skilled  connoisseur  in  articles  of  virtti,  of  which  he  had  one  of 
the  finest  collections  ever  made  by  one  individual,  nor  was  he  a 
bad  judge  of  pictures.  All  the  Royal  Family  were  musical,  and 
the  King  was  no  mean  performer  on  several  instruments.  He 
had  a  fairly  good  bass  voice,  and  sang  with  feeling,  taste,  and 
finish ;  he  was  also  a  clever  mimic,  and  we  have  it  on  the 
authority  of  Lord  Brougham,  that  H.M.  too  often  displayed 


THE   "FIRST   GENTLEMAN"   IN  EUEOPE.  17 

this  dangerous  gift.  Seguier  (Keeper  of  the  King's  pictures) 
bore  his  testimony  to  the  rare  ability  of  His  Majesty  in  this 
accomplishment,  which,  at  all  events,  showed  his  shrewd 
appreciation  of  character.  Lord  Holland  was  equally  pro- 
ficient in  the  art  of  mimicry,  and  the  King  and  he  would  often 
amuse  themselves  in  turning  public  men  into  ridicule.  They 
succeeded  particularly  well  as  regarded  Lord  Thurlow  and 
Lord  Loughborough ;  but  Lord  Erskine's  imitation  of  Lord 
Mansfield  was  even  better.  Lord  Erskine  indeed  had  a 
great  reputation  for  humour  of  all  kinds  and  he  uttered  and 
wrote  many  witticisms. 

George  IV.  was  called  by  some  the  "  first  blackguard,'' 
while  styled  by  others  the  "  first  gentleman,"  in  Europe. 
Apparently  there  was  in  him  a  good  deal  of  the  one  and  a  little 
of  the  other,  and  we  ought  to  be  glad  that  we  can  resuscitate 
some  of  the  few  forgotten  traits  which  tend  to  redeem  his 
much   abused,   but   perhaps   not   maligned,   character :    no- 
doubt  he  made  many  enemies  by  firmly  refusing  to  gratify 
the  ambition  of  the  incompetent  sharers  of  his  pleasures,  by 
appointing  them  to  any  position,  however  remote,  in  the 
Government. 

I  remember  in  my  youth  hearing  of  the  following  inci- 
dent indicative  of  the  King's  courtesy  : 

Driving  one  day  through  the  Avenue  in  Windsor  Park, 
he  met  a  coarse,  blustering  fellow,  one  of  those  who- 
entertained  no  admiration  for  Koyalty ;  on  being  told  by 
a  companion  who  sat  beside  him,  that  the  King's  phaeton 
was  approaching  and  that  he  must  uncover,  he  replied  with 
an  oath,  and  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  His  Majesty,  "  I 
won't  take  my  hat  off  to  anybody." 

The  King  drew  up,  lifted  his  own  hat,  and  said  with  a 
smile  worthy  of  "Prince  Florizel,"  "  I  would  take  off  mine 
to  the  meanest  of  my  subjects."  The  man  was  dumb- 
founded, but  by  the  time  he  had  sufficiently  recovered  him- 
self to  return  the  salute,  the  King  had  driven  on. 

A    somewhat    similar     anecdote     illustrative    of    better 

VOL.    I.  3 


18 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


qualities  in  his  nature  than  tradition  is  wont  to  credit  him 
with,  is  the  following  : 

The  King  was  taking  an  airing  on  the  Downs  near 
Brighton,  in  the  spring  of  1820,  accompanied  by  Sir  B.  Bloom- 
field,  when  a  farmer  rode  up  to,  and  addressed  the  latter, 
respectfully  observing  that  the  horses,  in  diverging  from  the 
usual  track,  had  got  upon  land  where  seed  was  sown,  the 
trampling  of  which  would  do  him  injury.  The  Sovereign 
bowed,  signified  his  approbation  of  the  notice  thus  given, 
and  the  horses  were  instantly  guided  to  the  high  road. 


THE  KING. 

Among  instances  of  the  social  forbearance  of  which  the 
King  was  capable  on  occasion,  is  one  recorded  in  an  anecdote 
of  the  father  of  Assheton  Smith,  the  great  huntsman,  who, 
like  his  son,  was  remarkable  for  his  doggedness  when  once 
he  had  taken  a  determination,  even  after  he  was  made  aware 
of  its  unreasonableness. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  difference  between  firmness  and 
obstinacy  consists  in  the  fact  that  the  former  is  a  strong  will, 
and  the  latter  a  strong  won't :  Mr.  Smith's  inflexibility  was 
of  the  latter  description,  and  he  once  played  it  off  upon  the 
King.  George  IV.,  on  his  return  journey  from  Ireland,  was 


THE   KING   AND   ASSHETON   SMITH'S   FATHER.       19 


the  guest  of  the  Marquis  of  Anglesey,  at  Plas  Newydd,  and  it 
had  been  arranged  at  a  public  meeting  at  Carnarvon  (Mr. 
Smith  in  the  chair),  that  during  the  Eoyal  visit,  an  address 
should  be  presented  to  His  Majesty,  a  deputation  of  twelve 
leading  men  being  appointed  to  go  up  with  it  to  Plas 
Xewydd.  In  the  course  of  the  proceedings,  a  question 
was  raised  as  to  how  the  committee  should  be  costumed  to 
enter  the  Royal  presence.  Some  suggested  Court  suits ; 
some,  uniforms  or  official  dress ;  the  chairman,  at  that 
moment  attired  as  a  county  squire  in  early  morning 
deshabille,  was  wearing  a  cutaway  coat  with  breeches  and 
leather  gaiters,  and  said  that  whatever  others  might  do,  he 
should  make  no  change  in  the  clothes  he  was  wearing.  He 
was  as  good  as  his  word  too ;  for  when  the  deputation  met  at 
his  place,  Vaenol,  to  proceed  to  the  Marquis's  house,  they 
were  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  their  chairman  habited  in 
the  very  same  suit  he  had  worn  at  Carnarvon. 

On  their  introduction  to  the  King,  Mr.  Smith  as  Chairman 
was  first  in  order  ;  His  Majesty  received  him  writh  the  most 
cordial  welcome,  taking  both  his  hands  in  his  own,  and, 
addressing  him  with  the  greatest  kindness,  without  appearing 
to  notice  his  uncourtly  appearance,  said,  "  Mr.  Smith,  do 
you  know  your  son  Tom  accompanied  me  in  his  yacht  to  and 
from  Holyhead."  Smith,  who  had  all  the  instincts  of  a  man 
of  birth,  notwithstanding  his  occasionally  perverse  temper, 
felt  thoroughly  ashamed  of  himself,  but  was  frank  and 
honourable  enough  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  been  over- 
come by  the  generosity  of  the  King,  of  which  he  always 
spoke  afterwards  with  admiration. 

Byron,  having  met  the  Prince  Regent  at  a  party,  was  by 
His  Royal  Highness's  own  desire  presented  to  him.  Mr. 
Pallas  says,  "  The  Regent  expressed  to  him  his  admiration 
of  Cliilde  Harold's  Pil<jriiii<Hje  and  continued  a  conversation 
which  so  fascinated  the  poet  that  had  it  not  been  for  the 
accidental  postponement  of  the  next  levee,  he  bade  fair  to 
become  a  visitor  at  Carlton  House,  if  not  a  complete 


20  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

courtier."     Dallas  goes  on  to  relate  how,  happening  to  call 
on  Byron  on  the  morning  fixed  for  the  levee,  he  found  him 
in  a  full  dress  Court  suit,  with  his  fine  black  hair  powdered, 
which  by  no  means  suited  his  countenance;  he  was  surprised, 
as  Byron  had  stated  he  had  no  intention  of  attending,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  he  thought  it  necessary  to  apologise  for  the 
alteration  of  his  resolve,  for  he  observed  "  he  could  not 
decently  avoid  it,  as  the  Prince  Eegent  had  done  him  the 
honour  to  say  he  hoped  to  see  him  soon  at  Carlton  House." 
Byron  was   not   above   the  weakness   of  feeling   highly 
flattered  at  the  notice  taken  of  him  by  the  Prince,  and 
wrote  detailed  accounts  of  the  interview  to  various  friends  : 
in  that  addressed  to  Scott,  and  in  informing  that  writer  of 
the  warmly  laudatory  allusions  made  by  the  Prince  to  Scott's 
literary  eminence,  he  says — "  It  may  give  you  pleasure  to 
hear  they  were  conveyed  in  language  which  would   only 
suffer  by  passing  through  my  transcription,  and  with  a  tone 
and  taste  which  gave  me  a  very  high  idea  of  the  Prince's 
abilities  and  accomplishments  which  I  had  hitherto  con- 
sidered as  confined  to  manners,  certainly  superior  to  those 
of  any  living  gentleman" 

Moreover,  as  Byron  did  not,  after  all,  attend  the  levee,  on 
account  of  its  unexpected  postponement,  he  made  capital  of 
the  incident,  intimating  that  he  had  never  intended  to  go  to 
Court. 

An  evidence  of  latent  refinement  in  the  King's  character 
was  brought  to  light  on  the  occasion  of  his  visit  to 
Dublin,  August  11,  1821.  At  a  Court  held  there,  Lord 
Kingsale  (or  Kinsale)  thought  fit  to  air  his  ancient  here- 
ditary privilege  *  of  remaining  covered  when  before  the 


••'  This  was  John,  twenty-sixth  Baron  from  the  ancestor  who,  for  great  services 
lie  had  rendered  to  the  country  under  Henry  II.,  was  created  a  peer  of  Ireland,, 
under  the  title  of  Earl  of  Ulster,  and  was  ''  the  first  Englishman,"  says  Burke, 
"ever  thus  dignified."  The  history  of  the  family  is  picturesque.  The  Peer  repre- 
senting this  rank  under  King  John  was  a  man  not  only  of  colossal  stature,  but  of 
enormous  wealth  and  consideration.  But  his  great  prosperity  made  him  many, 


THE   DE   COURCY  PRIVILEGE.  21 

Sovereign.  George  IV.,  whose  sense  of  propriety  was 
wounded  by  this  breach  of  good  taste  on  the  part  of  the 
Irish  peer,  said  to  him — 

"My  Lord  of  Kinsale,  we  recognize  your  privilege  to 
wear  your  hat  in  the  presence  of  your  King,  but  it  does  not 
appear  whence  you  draw  your  authority  for  covering  your 
head  in  the  company  of  ladies." 

A  trait  testifying  to  a  practical  sense  of  honour  on  the 
part  of  the  King  is  worth  recording  of  one,  the  worst  side 
of  whose  character  history  and  tradition  have  exhibited  to 

enemies.  Among  these  was  Hugh  cle  Lacie,  whose  jealousy  of  his  universal  pros- 
perity was  so  desperate  that  he  determined  to  bring  about  his  ruin,  and  by  gross 
treachery  and  unscrupulous  misrepresentation,  so  incensed  the  King  against  him, 
that  he  had  him  seized  and  thrown  into  prison,  and  confiscated  his  extensive 
•estates  and  large  property4 

Not  long  after  this,  a  fierce  dispute  arose  between  Philip  Augustus  of  France 
and  the  King  of  England  with  regard  to  the  Duchy  of  Normandy,  and  by  common 
consent  it  was  agreed  that  the  quarrel  should  be  settled  by  single  combat,  a 
champion  to  be  chosen  on  either  side. 

Philip  Augustus  it  was,  who  made  this  proposition,  having,  as  he  believed,  a 
champion  ready  to  his  hand  whom  no  one  could  vanquish,  and  King  John  in- 
cautiously acquisced  in  the  arrangement,  only  discovering  afterwards  that  he  had 
not  at  his  command  an  individual  to  oppose  to  his  French  adversary  with  any 
chance  of  success.  At  last  he  remembered  the  stalwart  bearing  and  formidable 
proportions  of  De  Courcy,  and  sent  for  him  out  of  prison  to  make  the  suggestion  to 
him.  Mounted  on  a  magnificent  charger,  the  great  Baron  entered  the  lists, 
surrounded  by  eager  and  excited  spectators,  among  whom  were  conspicuous  the 
Kings  of  England,  France,  and  Spain.  The  French  champion  now  appeared,  but 
no  sooner  had  he  set  eyes  on  his  terrific  English  opponent,  than  with  commendable 
prudence  and  extraordinary  celerity  he  made  his  horse  turn  tail,  and  galloped  away 
as  fast  as  the  beast  would  carry  him. 

The  French  King,  curious  to  test  the  warlike  strength  and  skill  of  De  Courcy, 
begged  him  to  give  him  a  proof  of  the  same,  and  was  greatly  astonished  to  see  him 
split  a  massive  helmet  in  two  with  one  blow  of  an  axe. 

King  John  was  delighted  at  the  prowess  of  his  matchless  champion,  and  restored 
to  him  his  royal  favour  together  with  his  liberty  and  all  his  lauds  and  goods. 
Moreover,  he  undertook  to  grant  him  any  favour  he  was  pleased  to  ask. 

De  Courcy  replied  that  of  estates  and  gold  he  had  as  much  as  he  wanted,  the 
•only  favour,  therefore,  that  he  would  ask  of  the  King  was  that  from  that  time 
forward,  and  for  ever,  he  and  his  descendants  should  enjoy  the  privilege  of  (after 
obeisance  made)  remaining  covered  before  the  sovereign.  The  Baron  who  last  died, 
it  appears,  never  availed  himself  of  the  royal  grant,  but  his  grandfather  (twenty- 
fifth  Baron)  insisted  on  retaining  his  hat  when  presented  to  George  III.,  and  his 
father  (twenty-sixth),  on  the  occasion  above  cited,  again  practically  enforced  his 
ancient  right. 


22  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

the  world,  and,  alas !  not  without  much  justification.  When 
His  Majesty  was  only  Prince  of  Wales,  the  Duke  of  Orleans 
(Egalitc]  paid  a  visit  to  this  country,  before  the  Revolution, 
and  lent  the  Heir  Apparent,  who  was  always  short  of  money 
— it  is  a  way  Heirs  Apparent  have — various  sums,  amounting 
it  would  appear  to  some  millions  of  livres.  The  trans- 
action seems  to  have  been  forgotten  during  the  subsequent 
troubles,  and  as  the  rules  of  etiquette  admitted  of  no 
documentary  proofs,  the  debt  remained,  in  fact,  unknown 
to  any  one.  When  the  Eegent  came  to  the  throne,  one  of 


•ft 


1  PBINCE  FLOEIZEL.' 


his  first  acts  was  to  refund  the  sum  in  question  to  his 
deceased  creditor's  son  (afterwards  Louis  Philippe),  who, 
finding  himself  by  this  unexpected  revelation  in  possession 
of  so  large  an  inheritance,  employed  it  in  the  speculative 
purchase  of  forests  and  woodlands  in  France  (just  then  much 
depreciated),  to  the  amount  of  five  million  francs,  and  of 
course  subsequently  this  property  rose  immensely  in  value. 

Of  His  Majesty's  ill-advised  connection  with  Mrs.  Fitz- 
lierbert,  and  the  inevitable  and  ceaseless  shufflings  to  which 
it  gave  rise,  the  less,  perhaps,  that  is  said  the  better.  How- 
ever, notwithstanding  his  abandonment  of  her,  and  his 


GEORGE   IV.  AND   SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 


frequent  disclaimers  of  a  continued  affection  for  her,  there 
appears  very  good  evidence  that  he  desired  to  be,  and  was, 
buried  with  Cosway's  miniature  of  her,  set  in  brilliants, 
round  his  neck :  not  but  what,  during  all  the  time  he  was 
separated  from  her,  he  scrupled  not  to  cultivate  the  society 
of  other  ladies  ;  his  Queen,  of  course,  went  for  nothing. 
It  has  always  been  said  that,  when  young,  George  IV., 


like  Louis  XV.,  was  a  perfect  model  of  grace  and  beauty, 
and  promised  so  hopefully  that  both  were  at  that  age 
adored  by  their  future  subjects. 

It  was  in  the  power  of  both  these  princes  to  retain 
respectively  this  affectionate  loyalty — unhappily,  lost  in 
selfish  pleasures  and  sensual  vices,  they  set  no  store  by  the 
generous  confidence,  and  naturally  came  to  be  execrated  by 
those  whose  expectations  they  had  betrayed. 


24  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

In  the  company  of  his  boon  companions  the  King  was 
coarse  in  his  language,  unrefined  in  his  manners,  and  by  an 
undue  and  unwise  familiarity,  laid  himself  open  to  imperti- 
nences inconsistent  with  the  royal  dignity  it  was  his  duty 
to  maintain.  But  he  very  well  knew  how  to  assume  a 
princely  bearing  on  occasion,  and  could  demean  himself 
at  Court  with  a  loftiness  and  elegance  of  manner  which 
entitled  him  to  his  reputation  for  courtesy  and  graciousness. 
An  attractive  instance  is  related  by  Moore  of  the  King's 
considerateness.  When  Sir  Walter  Scott  attended  the  levee 
he  made  an  attempt  to  kneel ;  His  Majesty  observing  the 
difficulty  occasioned  by  his  lameness,  hastened  to  say — "  My 
dear  Walter,  don't  kneel ;  I  am  delighted  to  see  you  without 
putting  you  to  that  inconvenience. ' '  Unhappily  the  notorious 
profligacy  of  many  whom  he  allowed  to  frequent  the  palace 
was  such  as  almost  to  justify  the  scandalous  pages  of  Lady 
Anne  Hamilton's  "  Secret  History "  of  that  demoralized 
Court. 

That  writer  takes  upon  herself  to  whitewash  Queen 
Caroline,  with  whom  she  was  on  very  intimate  terms ;  yet, 
whatever  opinions  there  may  have  been  in  favour  of  that 
Princess,  it  is  impossible  to  read  the  report  of  her  dis- 
graceful trial  and  not  to  believe  that  there  must  have  been 
a  considerable  amount  of  fire  to  account  for  so  much 
smoke. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  the  enthusiastic  pitch  attained 
by  the  popular  sympathy,  of  which  this  most  unattractive 
and  thoroughly  German  Princess  became  the  object. 
London  seems  to  have  gone  mad  over  her,  and  the  lower 
orders  were  unanimous  in  the  blind  favour  with  which  they 
viewed  her  case.  The  period  during  which  her  trial  lasted 
was  marked  by  a  succession  of  riots ;  the  streets  were  daily 
thronged  by  the  populace  as  she  drove  to  and  from  the 
House  of  Lords,  then-  object  being  not  merely  to  see  and  to 
"cheer"  her  as  she  passed,  but  to  await  the  departure  and 
dispersion  of  the  Peers  in  order  to  proclaim  their  opinion  of 


QUEEN   CAROLINE.  25 

the  views  these  gentlemen  had  been  expressing  in  the 
House,  and  not  one  was  allowed  to  drive  or  ride  by  with- 
out some  demonstration  from  the  mob. 

My  father  used  to  talk  of  having  seen  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  and  the  Marquis  of  Anglesey  riding  side  by  side 
to  and  from  the  House,  and  as  it  was  known  they  shared 
the  same  opinions,  they  were  uniformly  met  by  unsuppressed 
cries  of  execration,  the  mob  pressing  more  particularly  round 
the  Duke,  and  shouting — 

"  The  Queen  !  the  Queen  !  We  want  the  Queen  !  We 
must  have  the  Queen,  my  Lord!  "  adding,  "No  foul  play, 
my  Lord!"  Others  crying  out,  "The  Queen  for  ever ! 
The  Queen  and  the  Army  for  ever,  my  Lord !  " 

His  Grace  would  ride  on,  apparently  unconscious  of  the 
surrounding  hubbub ;  occasionally  he  smiled  if  the  crowd 
pressed  so  closely  as  to  touch  his  horse  or  himself,  and 
said  no  more  than,  "Yes,  yes,"  in  answer  to  the  most 
pertinacious  who  continued  to  roar  out,  "  Long  live  the 
Queen!" 

The  Marquis  on  one  occasion  did  not  succeed  so  well  in 
commanding  his  temper ;  he  spurred  his  horse,  anxious  to 
rid  himself  of  the  crowd,  and  finally  the  Duke,  quickening 
his  pace  as  they  neared  the  Horse  Guards,  both  passed 
through  together  and  the  gates  were  closed  upon  the  mob. 

This  scene  took  place  every  day.  One  day  when  thus 
pursued  by  the  marks  of  disapprobation  of  the  populace,  the 
Duke  as  usual  was  taking  it  quite  coolly,  merely  smiling  be- 
nignly when  the  yells  were  at  their  loudest,  but  the  Marquis 
became  irritated,  and  showed  his  indignation  by  frequently 
turning  round  with  an  angry  expression.  This  increased 
the  insolence  of  the  crowd,  so  that  when  the  two  heroes 
passed  as  usual,  through  the  Horse  Guards  into  the  Park, 
they  were  followed  by  a  general  rush  of  the  rabble.  Here 
they  assumed  a  livelier  pace,  and  the  Duke  rode  awray ;  but 
the  Marquis  lingered  behind,  and  at  length  making  a  sudden 
stop,  he  veered  round  and  demanded  of  his  persecutors, 


26  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

whom  this  movement  seemed  at  once  to  have  awed,  "  Why 
do  you  hiss  me  ?  "  The  answer  came  in  the  form  of  loud 
shouts,  "  The  Queen !  the  Queen  !  "  But  the  Marquis 
exclaimed,  "  If  you  want  me  to  vote  against  my  conscience, 
I  must  tell  you  I  had  rather  you  ran  me  through  the  body  !  " 
This  brave  answer  produced  loud  cheers  from  the  crowd, 
but  the  next  moment  the  cry  of  "  The  Queen  !  "  was  taken 
up,  and  the  gallant  Marquis,  finding  there  was  nothing  to 
be  done  with  the  pig-headed  mob,  spurred  his  horse  to  a 
gallop,  and  left  them  yelling  behind. 

The  following  from  Haydon's  diary  affords  a  full  confirma- 
tion of  this  statement : — 

"  19th  August,  1820. — To  the  House  of  Lords  to-day  to  see 
Queen  Caroline,  and  witnessed  the  self-disgracing  conduct  of 
an  English  mob  who  hooted  Wellington.  ...  As  the  Duke 
and  Lord  Anglesey  rode  slowly  away  the  mob  howled  and 
hooted  at  them  furiously  :  Wellington  took  it  with  great 
good  humour  and  seemed  as  he  turned  from  side  to  side, 
amused  at  their  noises. 

"  Directly  after  one  fellow  had  roared  himself  hoarse,  he 
turned  round  to  me  and  said,  '  Who  is  it '? '  '  Who  is  it  ! '  I 
replied,  with  undisguised  disgust  and  contempt.  '  Who  is 
it  ?— why  it  is  the  Duke  of  Wellington.'  '  The  Duke  ! '  said 
he,  {  What  a  shame  ! ' 

"  The  fury  of  the  people  in  favour  of  Queen  Caroline," 
he  continues,  l-  is  not  from  any  love  of  her,  but  rather  from 
that  innate  propensity  to  seize  on  any  opportunity  for 
thwarting,  annoying,  and  mortifying  those  who,  from  their 
talents  or  station,  enforce  obedience.  .  .  .  The  enthusiasm 
of  the  sex  for  her  is  a  tremendous  symptom  of  the  secret 
vices  of  the  time." 

During  the  trial,  the  office  of  The  Morning  Post  (then 
at  333  in  the  Strand)  became  the  object  of  a  furious 
attack  by  the  mob,  who  collected  in  front  of  it,  yelling 
like  savages  ;  they  drew  up  before  the  fagade  a  huge  cart 


7. 

a 


Pis 


DE.   PARR   AND   THE   KING'S   PROCLAMATION.          27 

filled  with  stones  and  brickbats  with  which  they  smashed 
all  the  windows  they  could  reach  and  battered  the  walls. 
I  have  been  told  by  Mr.  Wrn.  Pitt  Byrne  (whose  father, 
Mr.  Nicholas  Byrne,  well  known  for  his  Tory  principles, 
was  then  sole  proprietor  of  that  journal),  that  he  himself  was 
in  the  office  on  the  first  floor,  where  everything  was  smashed, 
and  was  compelled  to  retreat  into  an  office  on  the  north  side 
of  the  building  for  the  protection  of  his  life.  One  of  the 
clerks  received  one  of  these  missiles  with  some  force  on  the 
shoulder,  and  was  seriously  injured. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  conduct  of  the  Queen,*  that 
of  her  husband  was  unquestionably  disgraceful ;  yet  it  was 
while  this  persecution  of  a  suspected  wife  by  a  faithless 
husband  was  scandalizing  the  country  and  the  world,  that 
the  King  had  the  folly  and  the  bad  taste  to  issue  "  a  pro- 
clamation against  vice  and  immorality,"  which,  by  Royal 
order,  was  to  be  read  from  every  pulpit  in  England  on  a 
given  Sunday.  Dr.  Parr  having  to  read  this  procla- 
mation to  his  congregation,  eased  his  conscience  by  pre- 
facing it  as  follows  :  "  My  beloved  brethren,  you  must  not 
be  deceived  in  anything.  I  am  going  to  read  you  the 
King's  proclamation  against  vice  and  immorality.  You  will 
take  notice  that  it  is  not  issued  in  His  Majesty's  private 
character,  but  in  that  of  a  ruler  and  a  king.  It  has  nothing 
to  do  with  His  Majesty  as  a  private  individual." 

To  various  causes  has  been  attributed  the  coolness  which 
supervened  in  the  once  close  intimacy  between  George 
IV.  when  Prince  of  Wales  and  Eichard  Brinsley  Sheridan. 

When  the  "delicate  investigation,"  as  it  was  called,  had 
to  be  entered  into,  the  King,  who  had  alienated  from  him- 
self all  sympathy,  requiring  the  advice  and  support  of  the 
most  able  and  intelligent  of  his  friends,  bethought  him  of 
Sheridan  :  accordingly,  one  morning,  after  he  had  finished 

*  In  Queen  Caroline's  will  was  found  the  expression  of  her  desire  that  nothing 
should  be  inscribed  upon  her  tomb  but— "Here  lies  Caroline  of  Brunswick,  the 
injured  Queen  of  England." 


28  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

his  toilet,  he  despatched  a  confidential  messenger  to  fetch 
him.  Sheridan  came  immediately ;  and  as  soon  as  His 
Royal  Highness  saw  him,  he  said,  with  much  agitation, 
"  How  is  this,  Sheridan  ;  you  surely  do  not  mean  to  desert 
me  on  this  most  trying  occasion  ?  " 

Sheridan  bowed,  acknowledged  the  honour  done  him,  but 
intimated  that,  whether  an  accused  woman  were  in  the 
wrong  or  in  the  right,  he  would  never  take  part  against 
her.  That  Canning  was  also  of  this  way  of  thinking  is 
well  known,  as  he  resigned  on  that  account. 

The  respect  George  IV.  entertained  for  learning  in  women 
showed  him  to  have  been  more  advanced  than  his  times. 
In  days  when  Court  etiquette  was  more  punctilious  than 
at  present,  we  are  suprised  to  find  that  when  Madame  de 
Stael  came  to  England  she  refused  to  appear  at  Court  till 
the  Regent  had  personally  visited  her  at  her  lodgings  in 
George  Street,  and  the  King  humoured  her  by  presenting 
himself  there.  It  is  true  she  gave  the  Princess  of  Wales 
the  cold  shoulder,  but  she  did  not  altogether  please  His 
Royal  Highness  by  her  treatment  of  himself.  The  reception 
she  gave  him  seems  to  have  been  in  very  bad  taste,  and, 
though  adulatory,  far  from  complimentary.  She  made  no 
allusion  to  either  the  glory  of  England,  or  even  its  literature 
or  literary  celebrities  ;  nor  did  she  converse  with  him  as  if 
she  respected,  or  even  believed  in,  the  powers  of  his  under- 
standing, unless  that  can  be  inferred  from  the  admiration 
she  expressed  for  the  beautiful  shape  of  his  legs  ! — a  shape 
he  perhaps  did  well  to  make  the  most  of  while  it  lasted. 
Cariton  Just  before  Carlton  House  was  pulled  down,  but  after  it 

House.  was  surrounded  by  the  extensive  hoarding,  I  passed  it  one 

day  with  my  father,  who  lifted  me  up  to  an  opening  between 
the  boards,  showing  the  palace  as  it  still  stood.  I  can  now 
recall  only  a  dream-like  image  of  a  vast,  deserted-looking 
building,  remarkable  for  a  number  of  fluted  columns  along 
the  terraced  front. 

The  grounds  must  have  been  of  considerable  extent,  and, 


CABLTON  HOUSE   AND   ITS   COLUMNS.  2£ 

according  to  contemporary  descriptions,  there  must  have 
been  valuable  timber  on  the  property.  The  building,, 
about  a  century  old,  offered  some  traditional  interest, 
having  been  assigned  to  Frederick  Prince  of  Wales,  the- 
unoffending  subject  of  the  well-known  satirical  epitaph. 

The  son  of  "  Prince  Fred,"  afterwards  George  III.,  passed 
his  childhood  there ;  very  large  sums  had  been  spent  on  the^ 
gardens,  the  arrangement  of  which  was  entrusted  to  the 
gardener  of  the  Earl  of  Cork.  Nevertheless,  when  George 
IV.,  while  Prince  of  Wales,  made  Carlton  House  his 
residence,  it  was  nearly  rebuilt,  and  the  grounds  were  newly 
laid  out  for  him  at  considerable  expense — an  excellent 
ujob,"  no  doubt — for  some  one,  but  not  for  the  nation. 
The  design  for  the  house  was  by  Henry  Holland,  who  added 
the  portico,  supported  by  those  famous  fluted  Corinthian 
columns,  which  were  destined  to  meet  with  scant  welcome 
wherever  they  might  be  applied. 

It  is  no  credit  to  any  one  concerned  in  these  costly  trans- 
actions that,  notwithstanding  all  the  expense  to  which  the 
nation  had  been  put,  the  result  was  to  be  but  an  ephemeral 
one,  and  that  another  caprice  was  destined  to  exact  its 
destruction.  When  it  came  to  be  demolished,  shortly  after 
its  expensive  "  restoration,"  the  hapless  columns  cropped 
up  again,  and  having  been  laid  aside  for  future  use,  were 
thrust  upon  the  architect  of  the  National  Gallery,  who, 
when  making  his  design,  was  required  to  bring  them,  as- 
best  he  could,  into  his  elevation.  When  this  building  stood 
out  to  view,  with  its  pepper-box  turrets — after  all,  the- 
addition  which  really  spoils  the  effect — it  gave  almost 
universal  dissatisfaction,  and  the  architect  availed  himself 
of  the  fact  that  he  had  been  compelled  to  use  up  the 
columns,  as  an  excuse  for  the  fiasco,  alleging  that  their  dimen- 
sions had  obliged  him  to  dwarf  his  facade.  The  pillars, 
thus  tabooed,  became  the  subject  of  caricatures,  puns,  and 
pasquinades.  An  anecdote,  quoted  by  Southey  as  con- 
taining a  ban  mot  of  Lord  North's,  while  they  were  still 


30  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

supporting  Carlton  House,  tells  that  this  nobleman,  being 
blind,  asked  some  one  to  describe  to  him  the  respective 
residences  of  the  Prince  Eegent  and  of  his  brother,  the 
Duke  of  York.  When  the  narrator  came  to  an  end,  Lord 
North  replied,  "  It  seems  to  me  that  one  brother  has  got 
into  the  round-house  and  the  other  into  the  pillory."  York 
House,  I  must  add,  was  remarkable  for  its  fine  circular, 
domed  vestibule  or  entrance-court. 

Bonomi's  ludicrous   distich   on   this   vexed   subject  was 
remembered,  repeated,  and  universally  endorsed  : — 

"  Care  colonne  !  eke  fate  qua  ? 
Xon  lo  sapiamo,  in  verita." 

(Translated.} 

"  Dear  little  columns,  all  of  a  row  ! 
What  do  you  there  ?     Indeed  we  don't  know." 

Bonomi  was  well  known  as  an  archaeologist  and  man  of 
taste ;  he  had  won  a  deserved  reputation  by  his  studious 
and  energetic  pursuit  of  recondite  lore,  and  was  one  of  the 
few  Egyptologists  of  his  day.  His  favourite  occupation 
was  studying  the  ancient  Egyptian  buildings,  sculptures, 
and  hieroglyphics  ;  but  he  was  also  an  expert  draughtsman. 
He  once  hit  off  a  pencil  likeness  of  Livingstone — the  only 
one  there  was  of  him  at  that  time,  and  long  after  ;  it  is 
now  in  the  National  Gallery.  Bonomi  was  curator  of  Sir 
John  Soane's  Museum,  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  and  lived 
till  1878. 

The  King  took  an  interest  in  architectural  works,  and 
when  Buckingham  Palace  was  to  be  erected  in  1827,  on  the 
site  of  Buckingham  House,  which  had  been  pulled  down 
two  years  previously,  the  King  was  one  day  very  busy  in 
consultation  over  the  plans  and  elevation  with  Seguier. 
"Here,"  said  His  Majesty  marking  the  spot,  "  is  the 
entrance  and  road  for  people  who  come  in  hackney-coaches  ; 
here  is  the  entrance  for  Ministers  and  Ambassadors  ;  this 
is  the  one  for  the  Royal  Family ;  and  this,"  he  continued 
with  some  hesitation,  "...  is  for  Us,  on  great  occasions." 


THE   DUKE   OF   YORK. 


31 


I  have  a  recollection  of  the  Duke  of  York,  who  had  a  The  Duke  of 
fine   commanding  figure   and  a  handsome,  pleasant  face,  York- 
with  a  somewhat  bald  forehead.     I  also  remember  being 
taken  to  the  view,  previous  to  their  sale,  of  the  Duke's  goods 
and  chattels,  after  his  death.     The  plate  was  thickly  spread 
over  the  large  dining-table,  and  also  covered  a  massive  side- 


"  LAST  SHOOTING  EXCURSION  OF  H.K.H.  THE  DUKE  OF  YORK." 

board  in  the  dining-room  in  Audley  Square,  making  a 
gorgeous  show,  as  most  of  it  was  gilt.  Of  course  I  took  it 
all  for  gold ;  but  my  father  showed  me  two  comparatively 
small  circular  waiters,  which  he  told  me  were  the  only 
pieces  of  solid  gold  plate,  the  rest  being  silver  gilt.  Some 
of  the  Duke's  plate  had  belonged  to  the  Bourbons,  and 
had  been  purchased  by  him. 


32 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 


The  sale  took  place  shortly  after  this  popular  Duke's 
death,  in  January,  1827.  Colonel  Wardle,  who  made  him- 
self universally  obnoxious  by  his  attack  on  the  Duke, 
survived  His  Koyal  Highness  six  years,  dying  in  Florence 
(whither  he  had  escaped  from  England),  in  1833.  Mrs. 
Clarke  died  at  Boulogne  in  1852.  It  was  said  she  bought 
at  the  Duke's  sale,  that  portion  of  the  plate  that  had 
belonged  to  one  of  the  Bourbon  Princes. 

The  Duke's  death  was  lamented  all  over  the  country, 
calling  forth  demonstrations  of  loyal  grief,  and  there 
was  a  general  mourning.  Though  residing  in  Audley 


THE  GREAT  CHAMBER  AT  ST.  JAMES'  PALACE. 
(The  Duke  of  York  Lying  in  State.) 

Square,  the  Duke  (being  on  a  visit  to  the  Duke  of  Rutland) 
died  at  Rutland  House,  whence  the  body  was  carried  to 
St.  James's  Palace,  where  it  lay  in  state,  the  black  drapery 
being  disposed  so  as  to  form  a  tent,  in  character  with 
his  military  calling ;  gold  stripes  relieved  the  extreme 
blackness,  but  did  not  diminish  the  solemnity  of  the  scene, 
which  the  nickering  tapers  round  the  couch  seemed  to 
render  even  more  gloomy.  The  funeral  service  was  at  St. 
George's  Chapel,  Windsor,  and  took  place  by  night.*  All 

*  It  was  said  that  20,000  persons  passed  through  the  room  on  the  first  day,  all 
behaving  in  the  most  decorous  manner,  amid  solemn  and  respectful  silence.  The 
venerable  Lord  Stowell  was  the  first  who  entered  the  lugubrious  chamber  of 
death. 


FUNERAL  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  YORK.  33 

the  shops,  both  in  that  locality  aud  in  London,  were 
closed. 

The  Duke  had  been  a  great  favourite  with  the  army,  and 
his  administration  of  the  duties  connected  with  the  Horse 
Guards  had  won  him  universal  praise  :  his  obsequies  were 
attended  by  all  the  ministers  and  statesmen  of  the  day 
and  a  large  military  contingent,  and  the  King's  gentlemen- 
at-arms  were  in  attendance,  as  if  for  the  funeral  of  a 
Sovereign.  The  weather  was  cold  and  damp,  and  so  pre- 
judicial to  the  health  of  those  present  that  many  deaths 
followed  the  function  ;  indeed,  the  stone  flags  of  the  chapel 
were  so  chilling,  that  Lord  Eldon  considered  that  Can- 
ning saved  his  life  by  suggesting  to  him  to  stand  on  his 
hat ;  and  the  Duke  of  Cambridge  took  the  precaution  of 
getting  his  feet  on  to  the  velvet  mantle  of  the  Duke  of 
Sussex,  who  stood  in  front  of  him.  George  Canning  him- 
self never  recovered  the  effects  of  a  severe  cold  he  took 
on  the  occasion,  and  died  not  long  after,  at  Chiswick ;  his 
death  took  place  (in  the  same  room  as  that  of  Charles 
James  Fox)  on  August  8,  1827. 

Funeral  sermons  were  preached  on  the  following  Sunday 
at  all  the  principal  churches  in  London.  At  St.  Andrew's, 
Holborn,  a  strange  mistake  was  made  by  the  curate,  the 
Eev.  J.  Hoole,  in  the  anthem  which  was  to  follow  the  dis- 
course. The  one  proposed  by  the  rector,  the  Kev.  W. 
Beresford,  consisted  of  the  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  verses 
of  the  62nd  Psalm  (Tate  and  Brady's  metrical  version)  :— 

"  But  thou,  my  soul,  on  God  rely, 

On  Him  alone  Thy  trust  repose  ; 
My  Rock  will  health  and  strength  supply 
To  bear  the  shock  of  all  my  foes,"  &c. 

The  rector,  it  would  seem,  was  not  very  strong  in  his  auto- 
graph, and  formed  his  figures  so  indistinctly,  that  the  Eev. 
J.  Hoole,  whose  duty  it  was  to  write  down  the  order  and 
transmit  it  to  the  clerk,  mistook  the  "  6  "  for  a  "  5,"  and  it 
was  the  three  verses  of  the  52nd  Psalm  that  went  up  to  the 

VOL.    I.  4 


34  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

organ  loft ;  when,  therefore,  the  moment  arrived,  the  choir 
started,  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  with — 

"  God  shall  for  ever  blast  thy  hopes, 

And  snatch  thee  soon  away  ; 
Nor  in  thy  dwelling-place  permit, 
Nor  in  the  world  to  stay  ;  " 

the  other  verses  following,  to  the  consternation  of  the 
rector,  the  astonishment  of  the  congregation,  and  the  sub- 
sequent discomfiture  of  the  curate. 


H.H.H.  EDWAED,  DCKE  OF  KENT  AND  STRATHEAKN, 
E.G.,  K.T.,  K.S.P.,  d-c.,  <tc. 

The  Duke  of  We  seem  to  know  less  of  the  good  Duke  of  Kent  (although 
the  father  of  our  Queen)  than  of  any  of  the  other  royal 
dukes.  He  was  a  remarkably  tall,  well-made  man,  and  the 
expression  of  his  face  told  of  kindliness  and  S}Tmpathy  ;  the 
Duke,  was  hospitable,  simple,  and  courteous ;  he  could  talk 
well  on  a  variety  of  subjects,  and  while  affable  in  his  manner 
and  winning  the  goodwill  of  all  about  him,  he  never  lost 
sight  of  his  self-respect,  and  those  he  admitted  to  his  in- 
timacy would  never  have  thought  of  taking  liberties  with 


THE  DUKE  OF  KENT.  35 

him.  He  was  a  brave  soldier,  and  extremely  beloved  by  his 
subordinates :  his  domestic  virtues  were  known  to,  and 
admired  by,  all  who  were  admitted  into  his  society,  and  he 
was  highly  approved  for  the  upright  and  sensible  course  he 
pursued  in  living  on  a  scale  proportioned  to  his  means,  and 
finding  his  happiness  in  the  tranquil  joys  of  domestic  life. 

A  Welsh  judge,  by  name  George  Hardinge,  who  was 
particularly  favoured  by  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Kent, 
and  was  frequently  an  invited  guest  to  their  house,  gives 
a  very  curious  account  of  its  iiiterieur,  well  worth  recording 
at  the  present  day :  The  Duke,  with,  as  I  have  said,  com- 
mendable prudence,  was  living  as  simply  as  was  compatible 
with  his  rank;  but — "the  servants,"  says  this  gentleman, 
"  though  I  could  not  reconcile  myself  to  the  number  of  them, 
were  models  of  attention,  propriety,  and  respect ;  their  eyes 
seemed  as  if  they  had  been  made  expressly  and  only  for  us  ! 
Their  apparel  always  gave  the  impression  of  clothes  perfectly 
new,  their  hair  was  uncommonly  well-dressed  and  powdered. 
.  .  .  It  was  the  custom,"  he  continues,  "that,  at  a  certain 
hour  daily,  every  male  servant  should  appear  before  his 
master,  and  show  himself  perfectly  well-dressed  and  clean, 
with  his  hair  dressed  and  powdered  by  the  household  barber. 
Besides  this  '  law  of  the  Medes,'  every  man  has  a  niche  to 
fill,  so  that  he  is  never  unoccupied,  except  at  his  meals,  but 
is  always  engaged  in  some  duty  or  other,  and  is  amenable 
to  a  sudden  visit  into  the  bargain.  I  can  assure  you  the 
result  is  that,  in  this  complicated  machine  of  souls  and 
bodies,  the  genius  of  attention,  cleanliness,  and  smart 
appearance  is  the  order  of  the  day."  Would  we  could  go 
back  to  the  ways  of  those  good  old  times  ! 

Domestic  subordination,  apparently,  had  been  maintained 
with  similar  strictness  at  the  Palace;  for  George  III.,  having 
one  day  found  a  hair  *  on  his  plate,  forthwith  ordered  that 

:;:  Peter  Pindar  does  not  allow  that  what  the  Kiug  saw  on  his  plate  was  a  hair, 
still  less  a  hare— though  he  represents  it  as  a  living  animal.  So  serious,  however, 
were  the  consequences,  that  that  hair,  or  whatever  it  may  have  been,  may  be  suid 
•to  have  had  its  "shadow." 


36  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUKY. 

every  scullion  in  the  royal  kitchen  should  have  his  head 
shaved,  and  that  the  practice  should  he  retained  in  that 
department  of  the  household  ever  after. 

In  February,  1820,  the  Duke  of  Kent,  with  the  Duchess- 
and  the  infant  Princess  Victoria,  then  nine  months'  old,  was- 
staying  at  Woodbrook  Cottage,  Sidniouth.  The  weather 
had  been  very  rainy,  and  taking  advantage  of  a  fine  day, 
the  Duke  went  out  for  a  long  walk  with  Mr.  (afterwards  Sir 
John)  Conroy.  On  their  return,  the  latter  remarking  that 
the  ground  had  been  very  wet,  advised  the  Duke  at  once  to 
change  his  chaussure,  adding  that  he  should  not  lose  a 


••   \  v 

THE  INFANT  PRINCESS. 

minute  before  following  that  course  himself ;  the  Duke 
acquiesced,  and  was  leaving  the  room  with  that  intention, 
when  the  little  Princess  was  brought  in :  her  father,  who 
doted  on  her,  could  not  resist  the  enjoyment  of  playing  with 
the  child,  and  forgot  all  about  his  wet  feet,  so  that  he  only 
put  on  dry  shoes  and  stockings  when  he  dressed  for  dinner, 
In  the  evening  his  throat  was  very  much  affected,  although 
he  had  a  splendid  constitution  and  perhaps  counted  too 
much  upon  it.  Dr.  Wilson  ordered  him  a  draught,  consist- 
ing of  calomel  and  James's  powder,  but  His  Eoyal  Highness,, 
•who  never  drugged  himself,  considered  it  needless,  and  took 
no  remedy.  As  he  was  very  feverish  in  the  morning  the 


DEATH  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  KENT.         37 

doctors  held  a  consultation,  and  unanimously  agreed  to  have 
recourse  to  the  barbarous  treatment  of  the  day,  so  set  to 
work  and  bled  the  poor  Prince  with  all  their  might. 

When  the  lancet  had  done  its  work,  cups  were  brought  in, 
and  120oz.  of  blood  altogether  were  taken  !  We  are  not 
surprised,  though  tlieij  appear  to  have  been  astonished,  to 
find  the  patient  becoming  weaker  and  less  able  to  resist  the 
malady,  and  finally  succumbing  to  this  illogical  course. 
"  Out,  Messieurs,"  as  the  French  medical  lecturer's  refrain 
ran,  "  et  aprcs  tout  cela,  le  malade  mourut !  " 

This  Prince  was  of  a  finer  physical  mould,  as  well  as  of  a 
finer  character,  than  his  royal  brothers ;  all  were  fine  men,  but 
he  was  the  tallest.  The  Duke's  coffin  had  to  be  of  abnormal 
dimensions,  the  length  of  the  outer  one  being  7ft.  5in.  It 
is  a  curious  and  hardly  credible  fact  that  although  this 
exceptional  measurement  could  not  possibly  have  escaped 
those  concerned  in  the  funeral  arrangements,  they  should 
have  entirely  neglected  to  make  a  corresponding  provision 
in  the  size  of  the  entrance  to  the  vault.  A  difficulty,  un- 
seemly even  at  a  pauper  interment,  therefore,  occurred  at 
the  solemn  moment  when  the  body  was  being  lowered  into 
the  grave,  and  at  that  most  pathetic  incident  in  the  func- 
tion, matters  came  to  a  deplorable  stand-still  till  masons 
could  be  procured  to  remedy  the  simple  mechanical 
error. 

The  amiable  Prince,  whose  happy,  tranquil,  and  respected 
life  was  so  unexpectedly  cut  short,  though,  at  first,  disposed 
to  believe  in  his  recovering  power,  yet,  with  a  due  thought- 
fulness  for  his  Duchess  and  their  child,  resolved  to  prepare 
for  the  possible  eventuality,  contemplating  the  contingency 
with  courageous  equanimity.  His  Eoyal  Highness's  will, 
though  made  at  such  a  moment,  is  drawn  up  with  remark- 
able brevity,  clearness,  and  conciseness,  appointing  the 
Duchess  and  Mr.  Conroy  his  executors,  and  consigning  his 
only  child — the  Princess  Alexandrina  Victoria — to  the  sole 
care  and  guardianship  of  her  mother.  The  following  day 


38  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

the  little  Princess,  unconscious  of  her  irreparable  loss,  was- 
fatherless.  The  will  was  proved  March  21,  1820,  and  the 
personalty  was  sworn  under  £80,000,  the  probate  duty 
amounting  to  £1,050. 

The  Duke  left  but  few  debts,  his  chief,  if  not  only,  credi- 
tors being  Lord  Fitzwilliam,  fifth  Earl,  and  that  nobleman's 
kinsman,  Lord  Dundas  ;  these  obligations  were  piously 
cleared  off  by  Her  Majesty's  filial  care  in  the  spring  of  1838r 
very  shortly  after  her  accession  ;  the  payments  being 
respectively  accompanied  with  a  handsome  expression  of 
her  sense  of  the  friendship  that  had  existed  between  these 
noblemen  and  her  father,  and  the  presentation  of  an  elegant 
piece  of  plate  to  each,  as  a  souvenir. 

Lord  Fitzwilliam  is  described  in  Lady  Clementina  Davies's 
Memoirs,*  as  "  remarkable  for  his  delightful  manners, 
so  gentle  and  so  polite ;  .  .  .  there  is,"  she  says,  "  a  divine 
expression  on  his  countenance ;  shy  and  reserved  on  first 
acquaintance,  but  not  to  such  a  degree  as  to  make  him 
disagreeable.  Lord  Hardwicke  is  a  very  good  sort 
of  man,  but  he  is  not  so  pleasant  as  Lord  Fitzwilliam.'* 
The  Dundas  barony  is  now  merged  in  the  earldom  of  Zet- 
land. 

The  Duke  of  The  Duke  of  Clarence  on  becoming  William  IV.  began 
his  reign  under  promising  auspices.  It  was  evident  the 
nation  had  a  much  better  opinion  of  the  sailor- Prince  than 
of  the  "  First  Gentleman,"  and  both  the  new  King  and  his 
Queen  were  popular ;  every  one  therefore  hoped  for  many 
improvements  at  Court,  if  not  throughout  the  country. 
His  Majesty  carried  in  his  benevolent  face,  and  indeed 
in  his  whole  appearance,  the  attributes  of  a  "jolly  good 
fellow,"  and  gave  many  proofs  of  the  excellence  of  his 
heart. 

Those  who  heard  of  his  generosity  to  Lord  Denman  could 


*  These   Memoirs   were   written   by  Mrs.  Challis  ;    Lady   Clementina    simply 
supplied  the  materials. 


THE  DUKE  OF  CLARENCE.  39 


but  admire  the  frankness  of  his  disposition  and  the  largeness 
of  his  mind.  When  this  gentleman  was  expecting  to  be 
made  a  judge,  and  the  King's  consent  had  to  be  obtained, 
those  who  had  heard  and  remembered  the  bad  taste  with 
which,  in  a  recent  speech,  he  had  permitted  himself  to  allude 
to  His  Majesty,  were  fully  prepared  for  the  King's  opposi- 
tion to  his  promotion  ;  so  far  from  this,  when,  on  giving  the 
Eoyal  consent  he  had  been  reminded  of  it,  he  answered  at 
once,  in  his  blunt,  simple  way — "  Oh  !  that  need  not  make 
any  difference  ;  don't  interfere  with  his  appointment ;  let 
him  be  made  a  judge,  by  all  means  ;  I  forgave  that  long 
ago,  and  had  almost  forgotten  it."  Yet,  like  all  the  Eoyal 
Family,  he  had  a  wonderful  memory.  If  occasionally 
lacking  in  dignity  (like  the  other  princes),  he  was  as  con- 
siderate and  kind  as  he  was  just  and  honest,  and  his  good 
humour  was  seldom  at  fault. 

As  an  officer  he  was  intrepid  and  energetic,  and  Nelson, 
from  whom  he  acquired  his  enthusiasm  for  his  profession, 
always  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of  his  aptitude  for  its 
duties.* 

In  January,  1780,   he  was  on  board  the  Prince  George 


•'•'•  Prince  William  Henry,  Duke  of  Clarence,  and  afterwards  William  IV.  (born  in 
11C>~>),  entered  the  service  in  1779,  and  became  a  lieutenant  in  1785,  a  post-captain 
in  178G,  a  rear-admiral  in  1790,  a  vice-admiral  in  1794,  an  admiral  in  1799,  and  an 
admiral  of  the  fleet  in  1811.  As  a  midshipman  he  served  in  the  Prince  George, 
98,  flag  of  Rear- Admiral  Digby,  witnessing  Rodney's  relief  of  Gibraltar,  and  taking 
part  in  the  defeat  of  Don  Juan  de  Langara  on  the  IGth  of  January,  1780.  He  was 
present  also  at  the  capture  of  the  Prothce,  64,  and  then  again  shared  in  one  of  the 
many  reliefs  of  Gibraltar.  He  next  served  on  the  North  American  Station,  both 
in  the  flagship  and  in  the  Warwick,  50,  and  subsequently  in  the  West  Indies,  in 
the  Bnrfleur,  98,  flagship  of  Lord  Hood;  but  his  stay  as  a  midshipman  in  the 
West  Indies  was  rather  a  tour  of  pleasure  than  a  cruise  on  service.  As  a  lieutenant 
the  Prince  served  successively  in  the  Hebe,  40,  and  Pegasus,  28  ;  hut  at  the  age  of 
•21  was  made  post-captain  and  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  latter  vessel,  in 
which  he  sailed  to  North  America,  and  thence  to  the  West  Indies.  On  the  station 
ho  made  the  acquaintance  and  was  for  a  time  under  the  orders,  of  Nelson,  whose 
high  esteem  he  seems  to  have  acquired.  lie  afterwards  commanded  the  Andromeda, 
<3'2,  and  the  Valiant,  74.  As  an  admiral  he  flew  his  flag  only  on  two  or  three 
occasions,  and  then  for  very  short  periods. 


GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 


being  part  of  the  squadron  commanded  by  Admiral  Eodney, 
when  that  officer  took  the  whole  of  a  Spanish  convoy. 
Among  their  ships  was  a  sixty-four  gun,  which  was  after- 
wards named  the  "Prince  William,"  out  of  compliment  to 
the  young  Prince.  When  the  Spanish  Admiral,  Don  Juan 
de  Langara,  who  was  taken  prisoner,  was  brought  on  board 
the  Prince  George,  he  observed  one  of  the  middies  actively 
engaged  in  his  duties,  which  he  was  performing  with  so 
conscientious  an  air  that  he  asked  who  he  was,  and  being 
informed  that  he  was  the  son  of  the  King  of  England,  he 
replied  : — 

"  Well  may  England  be  mistress  of  the  sea  when  the 
sons  of  her  Kings  take  such  earnest  part  in  her  naval  service." 

In  1827  the  Duke  of  Clarence  was  appointed  Lord  High 
Admiral,  but  did  not  long  retain  that  office.  The  Duke 
of  Wellington,  then  Premier,  having  complained  of  the 
inevitable  expenses  of  the  Eoyal  progresses,  His  Eo}ral 
Highness  resigned  in  1829.  When  he  came  to  the  throne 
in  1830  he  expressed  his  perfect  satisfaction  with  the 
Duke's  administration  of  public  affairs. 

wmiam  iv.  William  IV.  possessed  considerably  more  diplomatic  tact 
than  appears  to  have  been  generally  supposed ;  his  reign, 
though  brief,  was  not  unfertile  in  incidents  of  importance. 
Louis  Philippe  being  called  to  the  throne  of  France  in  the 
year  of  his  own  accession,  he  at  once  acquiesced  in  his 
election,  and  maintained  well-balanced  relations  with 
France,  with  a  view  to  repressing  the  aggressions  of 
Eussia;  nor  was  his  policy  in  Belgian  affairs  in  1831 
without  its  wisdom.  Other  marking  events  of  this  short 
reign  were  the  change  in  the  Irish  regime,  the  passing  of 
the  Eeform  Bill,  and  the  abolition  of  slavery. 

When  Louis  Philippe  came  to  the  throne,  and  Talleyrand 
was  appointed  Ambassador  from  the  French  Court  to  that 
of  England,  the  Prince's  first  interview  with  William  IV. 
produced  an  impression  which  is  thus  noted  in  the  diary  of 
that  statesman : — 


KING  WILLIAM  IV.  41 


"  William  IV.  had  been  in  the  navy,  and  had  retained  the 
tone  and  manners  which  that  service  generally  gives.  He 
was  an  honest  man,  rather  narrow-minded,  and  whom  the 
Whig  party  had  always  counted  in  its  ranks  ;  nevertheless, 
since  his  recent  accession  to  the  throne,  June  26,  1830,  he 
had  retained  the  Tory  ministry  of  his  brother  and  predecessor, 
George  IV.  He  received  me  very  kindly,  stammered  a  few 
friendly  phrases  in  incorrect  French  about  King  Louis 
Philippe,  and  expressed  his  pleasure  at  the  closing  in  Paris 
of  the  Socictcs  Populaires.  During  the  four  years  I  was  in 
London,"  he  continues,  "I  have  nothing  but  praise  to  record 
of  the  behaviour  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  England,  who 
eagerly  took  every  opportunity  of  making  themselves  pleasant 
both  to  me  and  to  my  niece,  the  Duchesse  de  Dino." 

William  IV.  had  a  great  command  of  language,  and  without 
being  eloquent,  was  yet  a  fluent  speaker.  Sir  Astley  Cooper 
has  mentioned  in  his  diary,  a  dinner  at  Sir  Hutton  Cooper's, 
where  the  Duke  of  Clarence  was  present ;  and  on  His  Royal 
Highness' s  health  being  drunk,  he  spoke,  and  spoke  well, 
for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Sir  Astley,  alluding  to  this 
speech  one  day,  the  Duke  replied,  "  Oh !  but  the  Duke  of 
Kent  was  the  best  after-dinner  speaker  I  ever  heard." 

Cooper  attended  Lord  Minister  for  a  compound  fracture, 
sustained  by  a  fall  from  his  horse.  Pring  had  originally 
taken  the  case,  but  complications  supervened,  and  he  called 
in  Sir  Astley.  During  the  whole  time  the  patient  wras  ill, 
the  Duke  of  Clarence  used  to  visit  his  son  daily,  and  on  these 
occasions  must  have  taken  note  of  the  surgeon's  character- 
istics, for  when  he  afterwards  needed  a  surgical  operation 
himself,  it  was  Sir  Astley  whom  he  selected  to  perform  it. 
The  Duke's  considerate  nature  was  manifested  on  this 
occasion ;  before  submitting  to  it  he  begged  he  might  have 
time  to  write  to  his  Duchess,  urging — 

"It  is  now  eleven  in  the  morning,  and  I  shall  not  see  her 
before  six  this  evening,  so  it  would  be  right  to  calm  her 
apprehensions." 


42  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 


Sir  Astley  was  often  sent  for  to  Bushey,  and  speaks  of 
Queen  Adelaide  as  "  simple  and  elegant,  but  without  any 
pretensions  ;  always  affable  and  thoughtful." 

When  the  Council  of  the  Royal  Society  waited  on  William 
IV.  and  Queen  Adelaide,  His  Majesty  made  them  a  very 
eloquent  speech,  and  gave  them  good  practical  advice,  en- 
joining them  to  fraternize  with  philosophers  and  men  of 
science  in  all  parts  of  the  globe,  to  consider  themselves 
servants  not  of  England  alone,  but  of  the  whole  civilized 
world.  The  Queen  asked  to  see  a  list,  from  the  beginning, 
of  members  and  their  autographs,  and  was  particularly 
interested  in  that  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton. 

If  King  William  and  Queen  Adelaide  were  readily  ac- 
cepted by  the  nation  in  general,  no  locality  can  be  said 
to  have  testified  its  loyalty  to  the  new  Sovereigns  more 
zealously  than  Brighton.  The  reception  of  the  Eoyal  pair 
in  that  then  fashionable  marine  town  was  enthusiastic,  for 
Brighton  was  flattered  at  being  chosen  for  a  first  visit  at 
so  early  a  period  of  the  reign.  The  inhabitants  grudged 
no  expense  that  would  aid  in  expressing  their  frantic 
delight,  in  interpreting  which  there  was  perhaps  a  little 
too  much  demonstrativeness,  excusable  only  in  the  first 
burst  of  loyalty,  but  the  local  enthusiasm  continued  to 
froth  over,  long  after  the  triumphal  arches  were  crumpled 
up,  their  laurels  withered,  and  the  sailor  boys,  of  whom  they 
may  be  said  to  have  been  built,  had  resumed  their  normal 
occupation — yes,  long  after  the  Roman  candles  had  burnt 
themselves  out,  the  red  fire  had  gone  off  in  smoke,  and  the 
Catherine  wheels  had  whirled  themselves  into  ugly,  shape- 
less skeletons.  All  this,  with  the  regattas  and  illuminations 
over  and  gone,  Brighton  so  far  forgot  the  laws  of  good  breed- 
ing, as  literally  to  mob  the  Royal  carriages  whenever  they 
appeared  in  the  streets ;  the  forbearance  with  which  the 
Royal  pair  tolerated  the  super-amiable  attentions  of  their 
marine  subjects,  failed  to  be  understood  by  the  gushing 
population,  who  took  such  undue  advantage  of  the  Royal 


NARROW  ESCAPE  OF  MR.  EWART,  M.P. 


indulgence  that  it  was  no  uncommon  mistake  to  throw 
petitions  into  the  Boy al  carriage  during  its  daily  drive  along 
the  King's  Road.  The  King  was  so  kind-hearted  that  it 
became  necessary  to  advise  him  to  pay  no  heed  to  such 
addresses,  and  the  police  were  instructed  to  increase  their 
vigilance  and  put  a  stop  to  these  unseemly  proceedings.* 

Queen  Adelaide  is  described  by  Princess  de  Lieven  in  her 
Correspondence,  not  only  as  "  of  a  most  amiable  disposition, 'r 
but  as  being  "  endowed  with  singular  tact  and  sense,  and  as 
possessing  a  great  deal  more  character  than  any  one  gave- 
her  credit  for." 

A  curious  incident  took  place  at  Court  early  in  the  reign. 
The  honour  of  knighthood  was  to  be  conferred  on  the  Mayor 
of  Liverpool ;  and  Mr.  Ewart,  M. P.,  heading  a  deputation  from 
the  corporation  of  that  city,  to  present  an  address  to  the  King 
on  the  occasion,  approached  and  dropped  on  one  knee  before 
His  Majesty.  The  King,  taking  him  for  the  Mayor,  seized 
the  royal  sword,  and  was  about  to  inflict  knighthood  on  him, 
when  Ewart,  seeing  the  irreparable  blunder  on  the  point  of 
being  committed,  was  just  in  time  to  exclaim  somewhat  un- 
ceremoniously in  his  haste,  "Not  me;  please  don't  knight 
me."  "Where  is  the  Mayor,  then?"  said  the  King,  also- 
startled  from  his  propriety.  That  functionary,  who  had 
remained  modestly  in  the  background,  was  at  once  brought 
forward,  placed  in  the  required  position,  and  received  the 
honour  intended  for  him. 

As  "  the  King  can  do  no  wrong,"  had  the  ceremony  gone 
through,  Mr.  Ewart  would  necessarily  have  been  irrevocably 
knighted  ;  but  as  the  King  would  have  addressed  him,  "  Rise- 
up,  Sir  Timothy  Timkins "  (or  whatever  that  mayor's- 
nomenclature  may  have  been)  how  would  Mr.  W.  Ewart,. 


:"  When  King  George  III.  and  his  Consort  were  at  Cheltenham,  in  1788,  they 
seem,  with  similar  forbearance,  to  have  conformed  to  the  whim  of  the  inhabitants. 
His  Majesty  observing  good-humouredly  to  the  Queen  :  "  We  must  walkabout  and 
show  ourselves  for  two  or  three  days  to  please  these  good  people,  and  after  that  we 
will  walk  about  to  please  ourselves." 


44  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 

M.P.,  have  been  designated  for  the  remaining  term  of  his 
natural  life  ?  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  Pope  himself 
•could  have  un-Timkinsed  him  !  * 

Although  the  King  was  not  remarkable  for  brilliancy,  and 
.some  one  about  the  Court  is  said  to  have  observed,  "  What 
can  you  expect  of  a  fellow  who  has  got  a  head  shaped  like  a 
pineapple  ?  " — William  IV.  became  a  favourite  with  all 
parties ;  the  honesty  and  conscientiousness  of  his  nature 
and  his  continual  manifestation  of  consideration  for  others, 
won  all  those  about  him.  In  his  religious  belief  and  cori- 
-sisteiit  practice  there  was  an  almost  childlike  simplicity  and 
fervour,  and  no  deathbed  could  be  more  edifying  than  was 
his.  The  last  days  of  his  life,  during  which  he  was  fully 
•conscious  of  his  approaching  end,  testified  to  a  calm  and 
dignified  acquiescence  in  his  fate,  and  notwithstanding  the 
•distressing  effects  of  his  illness,  which  was  pulmonary,  he 
saw  his  ministers  and  transacted  business  to  the  very  last. 
The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  remained  at  the  palace  and 
read  parts  of  the  liturgy  to  him  several  times  in  the  day, 
besides  administering  the  holy  sacrament.  The  King  always 
dismissed  him  with — "  A  thousand,  thousand  thanks,"  very 
cordially  uttered.  When  near  the  end,  it  was  thought 
•desirable  to  move  him  into  another  room,  to  assist  his 
breathing  by  changing  the  air  :  as  it  happened,  this  was 
the  room  in  which  George  IV.  expired,  and  there  William 
IV.  died  also. 

William  IV.  was  not  without   a   sense  of  humour,  and 


*  An  accident  similar  to  this,  actually  happened  in  1788,  on  the  occasion  of  the  law 
promotion  of  Mr.  Scott  and  Mr.  Archibald  Macdonald  to  the  honours  of  Solicitor- 
General  and  Attorney-General  respectively.  When  they  went  up  to  kiss  hands,  Mac- 
donald, being  first  in  order,  the  King  dubbed  him  a  knight ;  but  when  the  officer  in 
waiting  was  directed  to  bring  up  Mr.  Scott  to  undergo  the  ceremony,  he  begged 
leave  to  decline  that  honour.  His  Majesty,  however,  was  peremptory  exclaiming, 
"Pooh  !  pooh  !  nonsense  !  I  will  serve  them  both  alike."  As  the  Koyal  command 
admitted  of  no  reply,  Scott  had  no  choice  but  to  comply,  so  knelt,  received  the 
.accolade,  and  rose  up  "  Sir  John !  "  It  is  hardly  worth  while  to  mention  the 
•O'Flanigan  case. 


THE  DUKE  OF  CLARENCE  AND  THE  BUTCHER'S  BOY.   45 

could  tell  an  amusing  story  now  and  then,  in  a  way  which 
showed  how  fully  he  relished  the  joke. 

One  day,  at  a  dinner  given  by  George  IV.,  at  "  The 
Cottage,"  Windsor  Park,  in  1827,  he  related  with  much 
drollery  the  following  personal  anecdote. 

"  I  had  been  riding  one  day,"  said  His  Royal  Highness^ 
"  unattended  by  a  groom,  between  Teddington  and  Hampton 
Wick,  when  I  was  overtaken  by  a  butcher's  boy  on  horse- 
back, with  a  tray  of  meat  under  his  arm. 

"  *  Nice  pony  that  of  your'n,  old  gen'leman,'  said  he. 

"  '  Pretty  fair,'  I  answered. 

"  '  Mine's  a  good  uu,  too,'  was  his  rejoinder ;  and  he  added^ 
'  I'll  wager  you  a  pot  o'  beer,  old  man,  you  don't  trot  to 
Hampton  Wick  quicker  nor  me.' 

"  I  declined  the  match,"  continued  the  Duke,  "and  the 
butcher's  boy,  as  he  struck  his  single  spur  into  his  nag's 
side,  turned  back  and  called  out  with  a  contemptuous  sneer,. 
'  I  knowed  you  was  only  a  muff.' 

The  "  single  spur  "  savours  of  the  yokel,  but  according  to 
Hudibras,  is  not  so  senseless  as  it  seems,  the  cavalier 
described  by  Butler,  wore 

"  but  one  spur, 

As  wisely  knowing  could  he  stir 
To  active  trot  one  side  of  his  horse, 
The  other  would  not  hang." 

If  William  IV.  did  not  inherit  his  father's  habit  of  triple 
repetition  (which,  however,  ran  in  the  family),  he  employed 
certain  forms  of  speech  peculiar  to  himself.  Among  them  was- 
one  he  always  used  when  any  question  was  brought  before  him 
on  which  he  was  not  prepared  to  pronounce  ;  thus,  when  the 
good  and  amiable  king  was  on  his  deathbed,  and  was  watch- 
ing through  the  open  window  the  sun  sinking  below  the 
horizon,  he  said  reflectively  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
who  stood  near — 

"  Ah !  my  friend,  I  shall  not  see  another  sun  set." 

''  We  don't  know  that,  Sire,"  answered  the  prelate,  "and 


46  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

I  pray   heartily   that    your   Majesty   may  yet    see    many 
more." 

"  That's  another  matter,"  replied  the  King,  falling  into 
his  habitual  idiom. 

As  an  instance  of  the  kindness  of  heart  of  William  IV., 
Mrs.  Adolphus — now  aged  95 — tells  me  that  one  of  the 
maids  of  honour  of  Queen  Adelaide  being  her  first  cousin, 
one  day,  when  she  went  to  see  this  lady  at  Windsor,  the 
latter  took  her  into  Her  Majesty's  private  drawing-room. 
The  Queen,  who  was  of  a  most  affable  disposition,  noticed 
her,  and  talked  to  her  in  the  pleasantest  way,  and  the  King, 
happening  to  come  in,  was  equally  agreeable  and  amiable ; 
when  she  was  leaving,  the  King  said,  "  She  mustn't  go 
away  without  a  remembrance,"  and  looking  about,  he  fixed 
on  an  elegant  little  etagere,  and  desired  it  might  be  put  into 
the  carriage  that  she  might  take  it  home.  It  stands  in 
her  drawing-room  still,  and  the  old  lady  sets  great  store 
by  it. 

Popularity  is  apt  to  be  shortlived,  but  not  necessarily  by 
the  fault  of  the  object  of  it.  In  the  case  of  William  IV., 
who  was  immediately  succeeded  by  a  young  Queen,  round 
whom  circumstances  had  thrown  a  halo  of  universal 
interest,  it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  even  his  virtues 
should  be  long  remembered  in  the  brilliant  prospects  of  the 
new  reign  begun  under  the  auspices  of  a  Sovereign  who 
presented  herself  with  all  the  prestige  of  youth  and  sex. 
There  had  been  a  long  succession  of  kings  of  very  full  age, 
and  a  chivalrous  enthusiasm  was  at  once  kindled  wrhen  the 
proclamation  was  heralded  in  the  novel  form  of  "  Le  Poi 
est  mort.  Vive  la  Heine"  and  that  Queen,  a  child — a  girl  in 
her  teens.  There  must  be  many  now7  living  who  remember 
the  coronation  of  the  girl-Queen  with  all  its  attendant  pomp 
and  its  special  interest — the  long  summer  day,  the  universal 
stir  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land  ;  the 
flocking  to  London  of  all  who  could  afford  the  expedi- 
tion, and  the  extortion  of  London  hotel  and  lodging-house- 


QUEEN  VICTORIA'S  CORONATION.  47 

keepers  who  naturally  sought  to  make  a  harvest  out  of  so 
rare  an  occasion.  Not  only  were  they  beset  with  endless 
applications  from  country  sightseers,  but  even  London 
house-owners  and  residents,  at  a  distance  from  the  Abbey, 
migrated  for  the  night,  and  we  were  among  those  who 
deemed  it  preferable  to  pay  a  fabulous  price  for  a  night's 
lodging  in  Parliament  Street  to  the  chance  of  being 
mobbed  and  perhaps  trampled  on  in  transitu  if  we  had  tried 
to  make  our  way  from  Cumberland  Gate  to  the  Abbey,  in 
the  morning. 

Those  who  did  not,  or  could  not,  accomplish  the  distance 
over  night,  started,  even  from  localities  within  a  couple  of 
miles,  at  five  or  six  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  already  at 
that  early  hour  the  streets  were  thronged,  and  it  was  all 
that  the  police  could  do  to  keep  order.  As  it  was,  but  only 
as  is  usual  on  such  occasions,  there  were  numerous  acci- 
dents— many  fatal — in  all  parts  of  the  town  ;  whether  from 
the  overwhelming  mass  of  persons  trying  to  force  their  way 
in  the  same  direction  at  the  same  time,  or  from  swell-mobs- 
men  doing  then*  utmost  to  create  confusion  and  to  take 
advantage  of  it.  At  night  the  illuminations  proved  an- 
other source  of  many  disasters,  and  I  think  it  was  on  this 
occasion  (or  perhaps  that  of  the  Eoyal  wedding)  that  little 
Lady  Caroline  Barrington  fell  out  of  the  carriage  and  was 
killed. 

It-  has  been  remarked  that  although  the  population  of 
London  was  so  much  more  dense  at  the  time  of  the 
Queen's  Jubilee,  and  although  increased  facilities  of  loco- 
motion brought  so  many  more  people  to  the  metropolis  for 
the  later  event,  order  was  so  much  more  effectually  kept 
by  the  police,  that  the  casualties  were  incomparably  fewer  : 
indeed,  the  public  fair  celebrated  for  three  days  in  honour  of 
the  coronation,  and  for  which  Hyde  Park  was  unreservedly 
handed  over  to  the  mob,  was  far  more  prolific  in  accidents 
and  offences,  than  the  streets,  to  say  nothing  of  the  serious 
damage  to  the  trees,  the  rails,  and  the  turf:  this  latter 


48  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

was  completely  and  entirely  trodden  away,  so  that  it  re- 
quired years  to  restore  it  to  its  previous  condition ;  but- 
it  was  essentially  the  people's  holiday,  and  they  took  that 
as  a  matter  of  course. 

A  curious  sight  it  was,  on  that  memorable  28th  of  June, 
and  one  eminently  suggestive  to  the  philosophic  mind,  to 
witness  the  eager  and  determined  rush,  all  in  one  direction, 
of  ever  and  ever  increasing  masses  of  people,  gathering  as 
they  approached  the  chosen  spot,  all  attired,  as  if  by  common 
consent,  in  their  best  Sunday-go-to-meeting  clothes,  all  pos- 
sessed by  one  idea,  all  absorbed  by  one  object,  and  all 
acting  on  the  principle  of  "  every  one  for  himself,  and 
chance  for  us  all,"  each  seeking  to  outrun  the  others  and  to 
push  himself  into  the  best  place  attainable,  at  the  expense  of 
his  neighbour,  while  all  seemed  to  have  made  up  their  minds 
that  no  accident  of  any  kind  would,  or  could,  interfere  with 
their  enjoyment  of  the  show. 

Day  dawn  was  ushered  in  by  the  boom  of  a  salvo  of 
artillery,  but  Nature  seemed  unmoved  by  the  solemn  appeal, 
and  the  morning  broke  gloomily  ;  even  a  smart  shower,, 
aided,  perhaps,  by  the  guns,  fell  about  eight  o'clock.  So 
absorbing,  however,  was  the  general  pre-occupation,  that 
although  it  fortunately  damped  the  dust  of  the  roads,  it 
failed  to  damp  the  irrepressible  ardour  of  the  eager  popula- 
tion, and  an  earthquake  might,  as  at  Thrasimene,  have 
"  rolled  unheededly  away." 

On  rushed,  bravely  pushing  their  way,  resolute  Cockneys,, 
followed  by  country  cousins  (whom  they  would  probably 
have  gladly  seen  several  times  removed),  so  steadily  bent 
on  the  prospective  pageant,  that  the  condition  of  the 
atmosphere  became  a  scorned  consideration.* 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  though  the  morning  had  remained 
persistently  dull,  there  was  a  sudden  and  unexpected 

*  The  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  reckoned  that  £'200.000  had  been  paid  for 
seats  alone  ;  and  the  number  of  persons  who  flocked  into  London  for  the  occasion; 
was  estimated  at  500,000. 


SCENES  OF  THE  CORONATION  DAY.  49 

•change,  exactly  at  the  supreme  moment  when  the  diadem 
was  placed  on  the  brow  of  the  youthful  sovereign ;  the 
skies  all  at  once  smiled,  and  a  bright  gleam  of  sunshine 
burst  through  the  Abbey  window  and  shed  its  radiance  on 
her  anointed  head.  We  may  therefore  date  "  Queen's 
weather,"  now  become  proverbial,  from  that  auspicious 
moment ;  the  remainder  of  the  day  was  all  that  a  June  day 
and  a  coronation-day  ought  to  be. 

All  London  had  risen  so  early,  and  those  who  were  able 
to  pay  for  seats  had  been  forced  to  make  their  way  to  them 
at  so  uncouth  an  hour  that  the  time  they  had  to  wait  before 
an  incident  could  occur,  proved  sadly  wearisome,  and  any 
break  in  the  monotony  of  the  slowly  passing  hours  was 
welcome,  especially  to  those  seated  on  the  temporary- 
stands  ;  the  spectators  at  the  windows  were  not  very  much 
better  off,  few  caring  to  vacate  their  places  lest  any  one 
else  should  take  a  fancy  to  them  in  their  absence  ;  they 
probably  remembered  the  schooldays'  proverb,  "  Q-wi  va  a 
la  chasse,  perd  sa  place"  when  the  action  generally  followed 
the  word. 

The  proverbial  dog  had  created  his  usual  sensation, had  been 
started,  cheered  and  hooted  as  he  pursued  his  terrified  course 
between  the  compact  human  hedges  which  skirted  the  road 
on  either  side  :  another  long  pause  and  then  another  wave 
of  human  voices  came  floating  on  the  air  from  distance  to 
distance  along  the  ranks.  What  could  it  be  ?  Every  indi- 
vidual eagerly  pressed  forward,  and  then  those  who  in  their 
turn,  saw,  took  up  the  cheers  with  renewed  spirit ;  a  striking 
group  had  come  in  sight — only  a  "  horse  and  his  rider"; 
but  what  a  horse  !  What  a  rider  !  Each  perfect  after  his 
kind,  and  both  apparently  conscious  of  their  individual 
splendour  and  of  their  fitness  for  each  other.  The  horse, 
proudly  and  gracefully  arching  his  neck  under  his  handsome 
caparisons,  curvetted  and  caracoled,  but  like  the  Holy 
Dancers  in  the  Echternach  procession,  who  dance  two 
steps  forward  and  one  step  back,  naturally  made  but  small 

VOL.    I.  5 


50 


GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 


advance  ;  both  he,  however,  and  the  rider  who  sat  him 
with  unparalleled  grace  and  ease,  seemed  by  no  means  un- 
willing to  linger  under  the  eyes  of  the  admiring  thousands,, 
who  applauded  to  the  echo  the  prancing  of  the  charger 
and  the  admirable  horsemanship  of  the  cavalier. 

This  part  of  the  programme  was  no  doubt  the  happy 
result  of  careful  practice,  and  the  time  it  occupied  must 
have  been  a  matter  of  calculation,  for  Lord  Alfred  Paget 
(worthy  to  be  the  young  Queen's  Equerry)  was  the  har- 


MARSHAL  SOULT. 

binger  of  the  approaching  procession,  foremost  in  which 
appeared  the  commanding  and  venerable  figure  of  Marshal 
Soult — a  martial  personality,  and  every  inch  a  soldier- 
representing  the  King  of  the  French.  Loud  and  enthusi- 
astic cheers  interpreted  the  admiration  of  all  beholders,  and 
told  him  how  cordial  was  the  welcome  offered  him  by  the 
people  of  England. 

The  Marshal's  carriage  was  a  grand  historical  relic,  and 
had  belonged  to  the  Grand  Condc ;  if  antique,  it  was  also 
picturesque  in  form,  and  gorgeous  in  its  trappings,  and  the- 


WELLINGTON— SOULT.  51 

richly  bedizened  horses  who  drew  it,  contributed  to  render 
it  a  not-to-be-forgotten  feature  in  the  pageant.  No  doubt 
this  officer  intended  to  impress  the  British  public,  and  he 
unquestionably  succeeded.* 

Soult's  appearance  within  the  Abbey,  preceded  by  heralds 
and  ushers,  was  a  signal  for  a  universal  cheer,  which  was 
renewed  when,  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  nave,  he  entered 
the  chancel. 

He  walked  alone,  with  the  martial  bearing  of  a  warrior, 
and  his  suite  followed  him  at  a  distance,  which  made  his 
entry  very  effective  ;  whether  pn  account  of  his  age,  or  from 
political  rather  than  personal  consideration,  the  respect 
shown  him  was  plainly,  greater  than  that  with  which  other 
ambassadors  were  received. 

Croker's  malicious  article,  assuming  an  insulting  tone 
towards  him,  and  purposely  timed  to  appear  in  the  Quarterly, 
had  not  the  effect  he  intended,  of  unpopularizing  the  veteran 
soldier,  for  his  reception,  not  only  at  the  coronation,  but 
everywhere  during  his  stay  in  England,  was  strikingly  enthu- 
siastic. The  course  followed  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
whose  goodness  of  heart  and  refined  delicacy  led  him  to  defer 
the  publication  of  the  tenth  volume  of  Despatches,  because 
he  thought  those  relating  to  the  battle  of  Toulouse  would  be 
felt  to  be  uncomplimentary  to  the  Marshal,  shows  the  differ- 
ence, whether  in  taste  or  feeling,  between  the  two  men. 

Strange  to  say,  Soult  and  Wellington  had  never  met  till 
that  day,  and  the  first  conversation  they  ever  had  together 
was  in  the  great  hall  of  Apsley  House,  where  the  Duke 
received  the  Marshal  on  his  arrival  there,  for  the  banquet 
given  by  His  Grace  on  that  great  occasion. 

*  While  on  the  subject  of  the  coronation,  it  may  be  worth  noting  that  in  May, 
1820,  when  occurred  the  death  of  the  Hon.  Louis  Dymoke,  the  championship  of 
England  which  had  been  held  by  him  as  a  right  appurtenant  to  the  manor  of 
Scrivelsby,  devolved  upon  a  clergyman,  "  whose  duty,"  says  the  writer  of  the 
obituary  notice,  "  it  will  become,  to  ride  into  Westminster  Hall  on  a  charger  at  the 
next  coronation  and  challenge  any  man  who  denies  the  title  to  the  crown,  of  the 
new  King  or  Queen."  The  Dymoke  motto  is  Pro  rege  dimico. 


52  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

Soult's  attention,  it  is  said,  was,  immediately  on  his 
entrance,  arrested  by  Canova's  marble  statue  of  Napoleon, 
and  he  expressed  his  admiration  of  this  fine  work  of  art. 
On  the  Duke's  remarking  that  it  always  struck  him  the  globe 
represented  in  the  Emperor's  hand  was  too  small  for  the 
size  of  the  figure,  Soult  replied  with  ready  wit  and  diplomatic 
courtesy — "  C'est,  voyez  vous,  Due,  que  1'Angleterre  n'y  est 
pas  comprise." 

In  a  letter  from  Madame  Mohl  to  her  husband  (to  whom 
she  was  then  not  yet  married)  we  find  a  singular  description 
of  the  coronation  pageant,  written  in  an  invidious  spirit, 
with  the  assumption  of  a  nil  admirari  tone  which  may 
proceed  from  malice,  affectation,  ignorance,  or  frivolity,  but 
dwelling  on  trifles,  and  making  not  one  single  remark  such 
as  so  unique  an  occasion  ought  to  have  suggested. 

After  describing  the  appearance  of  the  Queen,  giving  an 
account  of  Her  Majesty's  train  (she  does  not  mention  the 
royal  robes)  and  her  eight  train-bearers  and  their  trains,  she 
falls  into  somewhat  of  a  bathos  by  winding  up  with,  "  I 
never  saw  anything  so  pretty;"  and  yet,  with  the  experience 
of  forty-five  years  upon  her  head,  she  might  be  expected  to 
view  such  a  sight  with  more  seriousness  and  to  speak  of  it 
with  more  dignity  than  is  displayed  throughout  this  letter. 
She  alludes  also  to  the  ''trains"  of  the  peeresses,  the 
"  trains  "  of  the  ladies-in-waiting,  and  others,  and  adds,  "  in 
short,  trains  played  the  principal  part  in  the  ceremony;  " 
— it  is  to  be  regretted  she  did  not  manage  to  introduce  a 
railway  train — finally,  she  allows  that  "  the  music  was 
splendid,  and  the  whole  thing  very  amusing.1'1 

Yet  the  scene  presented  by  the  interior  of  the  Abbey  was 
of  such  extreme  brilliancy  that  the  Turkish  ambassador— 
albeit  accustomed  to  the  gorgeousness  of  Oriental  pageants — 
stood  so  entranced  at  the  magnificence  of  the  coup  d'ceil  as 
he  entered,  that  it  was  necessary  to  arouse  him  to  a  sense 
of  the  occasion ;  even  some  moments  elapsed  before  he 
could  be  marshalled  to  his  allotted  place. 


THE  CROWN.  53 


Madame  Mohl's  account,  though  dated  June  29th,  the  very 
next  day  after  the  event,  gives  none  of  those  details  which 
might  be  expected  from  a  person  of  observant  mind  and 
one  occupying  a  literary  and  social  position  such  as  hers  ; 
it  is  therefore  in  vain  to  seek  there  for  the  corroboration 
of  a  vague  recollection  of  my  own  that  during  the  function, 
there  occurred  an  accident  which  I  have  never  seen  men- 
tioned in  print,  and  so  many  of  the  spectators  have  now 
joined  the  majority  that  it  would  be  difficult,  after  this  long 
interval,  to  substantiate  the  fact :  it  relates  to  the  royal 
crown  of  England  borne  on  a  crimson  velvet  cushion  by  the 
Lord  High  Steward — the  crown  of  St.  Edward.* 

I  recently  asked  Mrs.  Leycester  Adolphus,  who  was  within 
the  Abbey  and  is  now  aged  ninety-five,  whether  she  had 
any  recollection  of  the  circumstance  that  the  noble  func- 
tionary had,  by  treading  on  the  train  of  his  velvet  mantle, 
as  he  approached  Her  Majesty,  disturbed  the  equilibrium 
of  his  sacred  charge,  so  that  it  tottered  nearly  to  the 
ground.  She  immediately  replied,  "  No,  it  was  as  he  was 
retreating  backwards  down  the  steps  ;  "  and  it  seemed  satis- 
factory to  receive  this  corroboration  of  my  own  recollection. 

Supposing  the  occurrence  to  have  taken  place,  it  is  per- 
fectly natural  that  it  should  have  remained  unrecorded,  for 
even  in  enlightened  England  there  are  probably  a  sufficient 
number  of  superstitious  people  to  have  seen  in  it  an 
untoward  omen,  of  which  happily  there  has  never  been  any 
realization. 

Whether  the  crown  had  or  had  not  a  fall  on  the  occasion 
of  Her  Majesty's  coronation,  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  the 
fact  of  a  subsequent  accident.  On  the  9th  of  August,  1845, 


*  The  crown  used  for  the  actual  coronation  of  Queen  Victoria  was  made  under  Her 
Majesty's  special  direction  and  after  a  design  supplied  by  herself.  It  has  been  stated 
on  Sir  T.  Hammond's  authority  that  the  crown  used  at  George  IV.'s  coronation  was 
hired  of  Kundell  and  Bridge  for  A'7,000,  with  three  or  four  thousand  pounds  more, 
by  way  of  interest,  because  of  the  delay  in  the  payment.  Had  it  been  purchased, 
the  cost  would  have  been  £70,000,  au  expense  which  Lord  Liverpool  refused  to 
sanction. 


54  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 

Her  Majesty  went  in  State  to  the  House  of  Lords  to  pro- 
rogue Parliament  in  person.  The  crown  was  carried  on  a 
velvet  cushion  by  the  Duke  of  Argyll  *  (Lord  High 
Steward).  As  the  Duke  was  receding  from  the  throne  after 
the  ceremony,  he  forgot  the  two  steps  behind  him,  by  which 
the  floor  of  the  throne  was  raised  from  the  ground,  and  when 
he  reached  them,  stumbled,  so  that  the  crown  fell  from  its 
cushion  on  to  the  ground,  and  several  of  the  stones  dropped 
out.  The  Queen  graciously  expressed  her  hopes  that  the 
venerable  Duke  was  not  hurt,  and  begged  him  not  to  be 
troubled  at  the  mishap. 

As  soon  as  the  Royal  party  had  left,  the  "  House  "-keeper 
appeared  and  requested  those  present  not  to  approach  till 
the  stones  had  been  collected  uninjured. 

It  is  curious  to  note  that  the  accident  was  the  subject  of 
some  comment  in  the  House  that  day,  and  that  the  Duke 
of  Wellington  appeared  much  concerned  about  it.  Imme- 
diately after  the  function  was  over,  the  Queen  and  Prince 
Albert  started  for  their  trip  to  the  Continent,  and  no  mishap 
of  any  kind  is  on  record  in  connection  with  the  uncanny 
incident. 

There  was  a  thunder  of  applause,  and  tears  of  emotion 
might  be  seen  on  many  faces  when  the  aged  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington knelt  to  offer  his  homage  to  the  Royal  child  who,  no 
doubt,  was  herself  more  moved  than  any  spectator  of  the 
suggestive  incident.  The  marked  alteration  in  the  Duke's 
countenance  and  gait,  the  increased  stoop  in  his  figure,  the 
snowy  whiteness  of  his  hair,  and  other  indications  of  age 
and  advancing  infirmity,  produced  a  painful  impression  on 
all  present.  The  signs  of  breaking  which  were  beginning  to 
tell  on  the  Duke's  appearance  seem  to  have  been  first  ob- 
served at  the  time  of  the  Queen's  coronation ;  in  all  the 
reports  and  accounts  of  this  grand  function,  the  remark 
occurs  in  a  more  or  less  pronounced  form. 

*  Seventh  Duke,  b.  1777. 


LOED  EOLLE.  55 


When  the  venerable  Lord  Bolle,  aged  ninety-five,  who  LordRoiie. 
had  already  slipped  on  the  steps  of  the  throne,  came  in  his 
turn  to  do  homage,  the  young  Queen,  in  whose  heart  a 
spontaneously  benevolent  respect  for  age  surmounted  the 
dry  dictates  of  Court  etiquette,  turning  to  those  about  her, 
said  with  lovable  naivete,  "May  I  not  get  up  to  meet  him?  " 
and  without  waiting  for  permission,  rose  and  advanced  down 
two  or  three  steps  to  spare  the  aged  peer  the  risk  of  another 
fall.*  That  simple  act,  in  an  instant,  touched  every  heart, 
and  won  the  loyal  affection  of  all  present :  the  expression 
of  this  feeling  on  their  part  burst  forth  unchecked,  echoing 
through  the  vast  building,  and  the  incident  will  live  in  the 
pages  of  history  after  all  those  whose  sympathies  it  drew 
have  ceased  to  remember  it. 

The  dignity  of  the  Queen's  manner,  which  has  been 
admired  in  her,  through  life,  was  maintained  even  in  that 
departure  from  prescribed  form,  and  struck  all  who  saw  it 
by  its  supreme  grace.  Charles  Greville  says  that  "  the 
different  actors  in  the  function  were  very  imperfect  in  their 
parts,  and  had  neglected  to  rehearse  them."  One  can 
hardly  be  surprised  at  that,  when  one  sees  how  utterly  igno- 
rant of  ceremonial  people  always  are  at  the  most  ordinary 
wreddings,  baptisms,  or  funerals. 

*  The  anecdotes  that  might  ba  collected  of  Lord  Bolle,  "  the  great  Devonian 
peer,"  would  fill  a  volume.  His  marriage  with  Lady  Trefusis,  which  he  hoped 
would  result  in  giving  him  an  heir  to  his  vast  wealth,  was  neither  happy  nor 
productive,  and  in  the  matter  of  eccentricities  there  was  not  much  to  choose 
between  the  pair,  except  that  those  of  his  lordship  were  not  unamiable.  His 
fondness,  among  all  that  was  Devonian,  for  squab  pie,  was  remarkable,  but  it  was 
also  remarkable  that  though  he  would  not  sit  down  to  dinner  unless  this  dish  were 
on  the  table,  he  constantly  proceeded  ab  ovo  usque  ad  mala,  without  remembering 
its  presence. 

Lord  Rolle,  among  his  countless  other  peculiarities,  was  remarkable  for  his  pro- 
vincialisms, and  all  who  knew  him  greatly  enjoyed  the  recurrent  "  this  'eres  "  and 
•"that  theres  "  in  his  conversation.  At  his  death  some  wag  chalked  up  the  follow- 
ing, in  which  is  also  introduced  a  reference  to  the  liberal  scale  on  which  his 
extremities  were  built : 

"  Here  lies  John  Lord  Kolle,  of  hand  and  foot  so  rare, 
Who's  left '  this  'ere '  to  go  and  try  '  that  there.'  " 


56  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 


Lord  John  Thynne  told  him  that  "  no  one  knew  what 
was  to  be  done  but  the  Archbishop  and  himself  (who  had 
rehearsed),  Lord  Willoughby  (experienced  in  these  matters), 
and  the  Duke  of  Wellington  ;  consequently  there  was  con- 
tinual difficulty  and  embarrassment,  and  the  Queen  never 
knew  what  she  was  to  do  next." 

It  seems  there  was  a  blander  as  to  the  moment  for  Her 
Majesty's  leaving  her  chair  to  enter  St.  Edward's  Chapel,  and 
this  put  out  the  Archbishop  very  much.  Her  Majesty  was 
even  compelled  to  address  Lord  John  Thynne  in  a  whisper 
every  now  and  then,  with,  "  Pray  tell  me  what  I  am  to  dor 
for  they  don't  know ;  "  and  when  the  orb  was  put  into  her 
hand  she  had  to  ask  what  she  was  to  do  with  it ! 

"Your  Majesty  is  to  carry  it,  if  you  please,"  said  Lord 
John. 

"  Am  I  ?  "  said  the  little  Queen ;   "  it  is  very  heavy." 

There  was  a  (surely  unpardonable)  mistake  in  the  size 
of  the  ruby  ring,  which  had  been  made  to  fit  the  fifth, 
instead  of  the  fourth  finger,  and  the  Archbishop  was  obliged 
to  force  it  on  ;  but  it  was  so  tight  that  as  soon  as  the 
ceremony  was  over  the  Queen  had  to  call  for  iced  water 
to  enable  her  to  remove  it. 

It  is  probable  that,  throughout  the  busy  programme  of 
this  eventful  day,  of  the  thousands  who  were  spectators  of 
the  various  details  and  the  thousands  of  others  who  read 
of  them,  only  a  small  minority  reflected  on  the  difficult 
part — a  part  from  which  there  was  no  escape — that  fell 
to  the  lot  of  the  young  and  inexperienced  girl  who  had  been 
made  the  nucleus  and  centre  of  it  all. 

I  remember  hearing  a  thoughtless  young  woman  exclaim, 
"  Shouldn't  I  just  like  to  be  in  her  place  !  " 

That  crude  remark  has  often  recurred  to  rne  since,  and 
at  the  time  it  convinced  me  that  if  a  satisfactory  proof  had 
been  wanted  of  the  absolute  unfitness  of  that  person  for  the 
office  she  coveted,  it  existed  in  the  exclamation  itself : 
besides  this,  it  seemed  startlingly  to  reveal  all  the  difficulties, 


THE  QUEEN'S  DEMEANOUR.  57 

all  the  apprehensions,  all  the  embarrassments  of  the  young 
Queen's  new  and  unrehearsable  position — the  wish  to  do 
right,  the  fear  of  going  wrong,  of  committing  any  breach 
of  prescribed  order  and  etiquette  in  so  solemn  and  so  public 
a  ceremonial,  in  which  a  single  blunder  might  suddenly 
bring  together  the  sublime  and  the  ridiculous  ;  for  had  the 
smallest  irregularity  been  perceived  it  must  have  been  fatal 
and  irreparable  ;  whatever  happened  on  that  day  was  to  pass 
into  history. 

Instead  of  this,  how  did  the  youthful  Sovereign  conduct 
herself  under  the  trying  ordeal  ?  No  one  could  have 
detected  an  instant's  departure  from  the  modest  and  grace- 
ful bearing,  the  noble  self-possession,  the  unflagging  courage 
and  calm  dignity  with  which  Her  Majesty  fulfilled  her 
allotted  part ;  standing,  so  to  speak,  alone — the  supremest 
personage  in  the  whole  world,  and  with  the  eyes  of  all 
civilized  nations,  present  and  to  come,  throughout  the  entire 
globe  fixed  upon  her.  Statesmen,  not  of  England  alone, 
but  of  all  the  Courts  of  Europe,  must  have  been  watching, 
some  with  earnest,  some  with  critical  interest,  every  incident 
of  the  day,  seeing  in  every  act  a  crucial  test  of  the  young 
and  untried  monarch's  capacity  for  the  arduous  duties  of 
her  future  reign,  and  doubtless  their  surprise  was  great. 

Perhaps  when  history  comes  to  deal  with  the  reign  of 
Queen  Victoria  as  that  of  a  departed  Sovereign,  due 
credit  will  be  given  to  the  unique  attributes  of  her 
early  character,  and  justice  will  be  done  to  the  tact,  the 
bravery,  and  the  conscientiousness  which,  from  the  earliest 
hour  of  her  sovereignty,  won  the  respect  and  admiration  of 
the  observant  and  the  thoughtful,  who  must  have  seen  in  the 
dawn  of  these  admirable  qualities  an  earnest  of  the  prosperity 
and  glory  of  England  under  the  sceptre  of  Queen  Victoria. 

There  are  in  contemporaneous  history  many  anecdotes 
of  the  young  Queen,  showing  the  natural  wit,  shrewdness, 
and  intelligence,  and,  above  all,  the  independence — so  valu- 
able to  one  in  Her  Majesty's  position — which  she  already 


58  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

possessed  at  the  early  age  which  saw  her  called  to  the 
throne.* 

Among  the  most  interesting,  is  one  narrated  by  Major 
dimming  Bruce  at  the  Conservative  dinner  given  to  him 
and  Mr.  McKenzie,  jun.,  of  Seat  well,  at  Forres,  in  Septem- 
ber, 1837,  he  pledging  his  word  for  its  truth. 

"  Lord  Melbourne,  in  his  character  of  Premier >  had  to 
wait  upon  Her  Majesty  at  Windsor  upon  State  business. 
When  it  was  concluded  the  noble  lord  begged  to  be  allowed 
to  address  the  Queen  on  a  subject  which  he  felt  it  to  be  his 
duty  to  press  on  Her  Majesty's  attention,  viz.,  'Would  Her 
Majesty  graciously  inform  him  whether  there  was  any 
individual  for  whom  she  felt  such  a  preference  that  she 
would  wish  to  have  him  associated  with  her  in  the  cares  of 
the  sovereignty.'  The  Queen  no  doubt  felt  a  little  surprised 
at  such  an  inquiry,  but  sagely  requested  to  know  whether 
his  lordship  made  it  as  a  Minister  of  the  Crown,  and 
whether  he  intended  she  should  regard  it  as  a  matter  of 
State  policy,  if  so  she  would  endeavour  to  answer  it. 

"  Lord  Melbourne  replied  that  under  no  other  circum- 
stances would  he  have  presumed  to  address  such  a  question 
to  Her  Majesty. 

" l  Then,'  said  the  Queen,  'I  must  admit  there  is  an 
individual  for  whom  I  entertain  a  decided  preference,  and 
that  individual  is  the  Duke  of  Wellington.' 

" '  Gentlemen,'  concluded  Major  Gumming  Bruce,  'I 
leave  you  to  figure  to  yourselves  the  length  of  the  noble 
lord's  face  ! '  " 

It  may  be  remarked  to  the  credit  of  the  Queen's  good 
sense  and  appreciation  of  character  while  yet  very  young, 

*  At  the  time  of  the  Queen's  accession,  the  Whig  Ministry  still  remaining  in,  the 
following  epigram  was  found  scratched  on  the  window  of  an  inn  at  Huddersfield  : 

"The  Queen  is  with  us,"  Whigs  insulting  say, 
"  For  when  she  found  us  in,  she  let  us  stay." 
"  It  may  be  so,  but  give  me  leave  to  doubt, 
"  How  long  she'll  keep  you  when  she's  found  you  out" 


THE  BRIGHTON  PAVILION.  59 

that,  however  successfully  the  intriguing  Princess  de  Lieven 
may  have  managed  Lord  Grey  *  and  others,  the  diplomatic 
reserve  with  which  Her  Majesty  received  that  insidious 
Bussian  agent,  showed  with  what  perspicacity  she  had 
taken  her  measure. 

Of  localities  which  found  themselves  in  altered  circum- 
stances under  the  new  reign,  Brighton  woke  up  one  morning 
to  the  consciousness  that  however  prosperous  her  future  was 
to  be,  she  would  owe  no  more  advancement  to  royalty. 
Brighton  had  been  the  spoiled  child  of  two  successive 
Sovereigns,  but  there  its  Court  favour  wras  to  end.  There 
were  manifest  reasons  why  the  place  should  be  distasteful  to 
the  Queen,  and  for  one  of  these  the  inhabitants  had  only 
themselves  to  thank ;  they  began  on  the  occasion  of  the 
Queen's  early  visit  to  the  place  the  same  vulgar  system 
of  mobbing  which  they  had  practised  on  William  IV.,  and 
literally  drove  Her  Majesty  to  seek  a  marine  residence  else- 
where. No  one  was  surprised  at  this,  nor  yet  that  Her 
Majesty  was  not  attracted  by  a  marine  palace  which  com- 
manded no  view  of  the  sea,  and  had  besides,  at  least,  during 
the  reign  of  George  IV.,  been  turned  to  questionable  account. 

The  Moorish  elevation  of  this  Occidental  seraglio  had 
never  pleased  any  one  but  the  whimsical  King,  whose 
caprices  were  always  humoured,  and  independently  of  its 
bizarre  external  aspect,  the  interior  was  inconvenient  and 
comfortless ;  yet  the  King  had  been  so  enamoured  of  this 
residence  that  he  had  had  a  "  royal  road  "  to  it,  cut  through 
Gatton  Park  by  means  of  which,  with  four  fleet  horses,  he 
could  reach  his  Caproea  by  a  three  hours'  drive.  What  would 
he  say  to  the  present  accessibility  of  his  beloved  Brighton ! 

At  this  time,  there  were  necessarily,  many  more  or  less  George 
noble  dwellings  required  in  Brighton  ;  for  the  King,  when  Cann 

*  It  has  been  remarked  that  "  the  great  defect  in  Lord  Grey's  character  was 
want  of  decision  ;  that  he  was  a  vain  man  easily  flattered  .  .  .  that  his  accessibility, 
his  tenderness  of  heart,  his  truthfulness,  his  consistency,  were  contrasted  by  weak- 
nesses which  almost  rendered  them  negations." 


60 


GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 


there,  liked  to  have  his  Court  and  his  ministers  at  hand. 
One  such  mansion  was  that  at  Kemp  Town,  huilt  for  George 
Canning;  I  retain  a  recollection  of  it,  because  some  little 
time  after  that  statesman's  death,  my  father  thought  of 
buying  it,  and  took  me  with  him  when  he  went  over  it : 
but  wisely  reflecting  that  progress  is  apt  to  move  west- 
ward, he  bought  one  of  those,  then  building,  on  Brunswick 
Terrace,*  instead. 

In  George  Canning's  house  I  remember  a  subterranean 


GEORGE  CANNING. 

passage,  leading  from  his  study  to  the  beach,  where,  it  was- 
said,  that  after  the  example  of  another  great  orator,  he  was- 
wont  to  rehearse  his  speeches  when  the  sea  was  at  its 
roughest,  trying  which  voice  should  out-top  the  other ;  but 
this  was  not  all ;  his  elocutional  training  was  the  object  of 

*  Brunswick  Terrace  was  at  that  time  the  Ultima  Thule  of  the  town ;  in  fact,  it 
was  not  Brighton  at  all,  but  "  Hove,"  though  now,  about  the  central  point  of  the 
sea  road.  The  house  he  bought  was  therefore  a  carcase,  was  finished  to  his  own 
order,  and  was  the  first  house  in  Brighton  which  had  plate-glass  windows  in  one 
pane,  soon  approved  and  copied  in  other  houses. 


GEORGE  CANNING'S  ORATORY.  61 

much  forethought  and  care :  however,  he  also  knew  that 
ars  est  celare  arteni,  and  those  who  listened  breathlessly  to 
his  graceful  oratory,  which  seemed  to  flow  with  the  exhaust- 
less  spontaneity  of  a  mountain  stream,  were  probably  far 
from  supposing  that  patient  and  painstaking  hours  were 
passed  in  rehearsing  (not  as  Lord  Dufferin  suggests  "  before 
a" — perhaps  treacherous — "newspaper  reporter,"  but)  before 
a  full-length,  silent,  mirror,  in  a  closely-shut  room,  those 
brilliant  speeches  which  were  to  be  the  envy  and  admiration 
of  his  fellow  statesmen  and  of  the  world. 

I  have  not  forgotten  this  room,  which  was  of  an  octagon 
form ;  it  was  thickly  padded,  and  lined  with  green  baize, 
and  the  door  closed  as  hermetically  as  a  door  can  be  made 
to  close ;  there  was  one  window  which  looked  out  on  the 
beach,  and  at  high  water,  the  sea  came  up  to  the  wall : 
entire  privacy  was  thus  secured,  and  the  occupant  of  the 
room  could  exercise  his  lungs  to  any  extent  he  pleased,  in 
full  confidence  that  he  would  never  be  overheard. 

Some  years  ago,  being  in  Kemp  Town,  I  tried  to  obtain 
another  sight  of  George  Canning's  padded  room ;  but  found 
the  house  occupied  as  a  school  for  young  ladies ;  alas ! 
how  evanescent  are  all  things !  the  fad  of  the  subterranean 
passage  and  the  pad  of  the  spouting-room,  wrhich  might 
have  been  called  his  "  oratory,"  had  disappeared  even  from 
the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant ! 

Had  it  been  made  into  a  boys'  school,  the  muffled  chamber 
might  have  proved  exceedingly  useful  for  birching  purposes ; 
but  it  is  curious  that  these  highly  educated  damsels,  fortified, 
no  doubt,  with  all  the  ologies,  should  never  have  heard  so 
much  as  a  tradition  that  the  roof  under  which  they  studied 
so  profitably,  had  once  sheltered  that  distinguished  orator, 
the  powerful  gush  of  whose  eloquence  had  influenced  the 
condition  of  the  civilized  world. 

Charles  Greville's  appreciation  of  George  Canning  was 
more  favourable  to  that  statesman  than  that  of  Sydney 
Smith,  who  spoke  of  him  with  so  much  rancour  that  one  is 


62  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

led  to  suppose  there  must  have  been  some  personal  pique- 
sheathed  in  his  remarks.  Canning  was  not  only  a  fluent 
speaker,  but  a  rapid  thinker,  and  he  was  oftentimes  his 
own  amanuensis,  simply  because  of  the  irritation  he  expe- 
rienced, when  dictating,  at  what  always  seemed  to  him  the 
slowness  of  his  secretaries. 

However,  at  times,  the  gout  in  his  hand  forbade  his 
employing  it,  and  then  he  was  forced  to  have  recourse  to 
the  assistance  of  others.  Greville  describes  him  as  on  one 
occasion  dictating  two  important  despatches  simultaneously 
— the  one  on  Greek  affairs  to  George  Bentinck,  and  the  other 
on  South  American  politics  to  Howard  de  Walden,  each  writ- 
ing as  fast  as  he  could.  At  the  period  of  his  death,  Canning 
was  the  greatest  orator  of  his  time,  and  if  his  forensic  elo- 
quence had  less  power  than  Brougham's,  it  was  the  only 
thing  on  which  he  could  be  considered  inferior  to  him. 

Canning's  external  appearance  formed  a  striking  contrast 
to  that  of  Fox,  his  dress  was  always  neat  though  plain,  and 
his  knee-breeches  and  well-drawn-up  silk  stockings  imparted 
to  it  a  certain  style.*  His  countenance  was  indicative  of  the 
firmness  of  his  purpose,  but  was  overspread  with  a  benevo- 
lent expression,  and  his  baldness  became  him,  for  his  high 
forehead  betokened  both  genius  and  vigour.  When  h& 
spoke,  his  action  was  perfectly  natural,  and  there  was  no 
appearance  of  affectation  either  in  his  attitude  or  his  in- 
tonation, this,  probably  from  careful  cultivation,  was  clear 
and  powerful. 

It  is  worth  noting  that  notwithstanding  all  his  splendid 
talents  and  lofty  aspirations,  the  domain  of  art  seemed  to 
be  a  closed  world  to  Canning :  he  understood  nothing  of 
painting,  and  derived  no  gratification  from  the  sight  of  a 
fine  picture. 


*  Fox  was  notorious  for  the  untidiness  of  his  dress.  I  have  seen  a  paragraph 
quoted  from  a  morning  paper  of  his  day,  remarking,  as  a  matter  of  information, 
and  without  any  indication  of  satire,  that — "  Mr.  Fox  came  to  the  House  last  night 
wearing  a  clean  waistcoat.'' 


BRIGHTON  CELEBRITIES.  63 

Among  family  friends  residing  at  Brighton,  were  the  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Basevis  whom  we  often  saw,  as  they  were  near  neighbours, 
living  in  Brunswick  Square.  Miss  Basevi — Maria,  daughter 
of  Joshua  and  sister  of  George,  Basevi,  it  will  be  remembered, 
married,  in  1802,  Isaac  d'Israeli,  and  became  the  mother  of 
Lord  Beaconsfield;  George  Basevi  had  two  sons,  one  of  whom, 
educated  at  Dr.  Burney's  famous  school,  followed  the  pro- 
fession of  architect,  and  being  engaged  on  the  restoration  of 
Ely  Cathedral,  was  one  day  standing  on  a  platform  of  the 
scaffolding,  and  so  busily  interested  in  surveying  some 
portion  of  the  work,  that  he  stepped  back  further  than  he 
intended,  lost  his  footing,  and  fell  through  a  shaft  of  the 
depth  of  forty  feet ;  the  opening  through  which  he  passed 
was,  it  appears,  so  narrow  that,  had  he  possessed  the  presence 
of  mind  to  spread  his  arms,  he  might  have  saved  himself 
with  the  greatest  ease ;  as  it  was,  he  was  picked  up  dead ; 
an  arch&ological  friend  of  his,  a  Cambridge  chum  of  my 
brother's,  was  standing  beside  him  at  the  moment,  and  had 
just  addressed  him  a  question,  to  which  receiving  no  answer, 
he  turned  round,  but  only  in  time  to  see  his  friend  disappear ! 

In  Brunswick  Square  there  lived  also  at  this  time,  some  T 
old  family  friends  of  ours,  by  name  Haweis,  grandparents 
of  the  popular  and  eccentric  preacher  of  that  name. 

The  Duchess  of  St.  Albaus  became  a  Brighton  habituee.  ^l?" 

'    of  St.  Albans. 

and  purchased  a  mansion  close  to  Eegency  Square,  there- 
after known  as  St.  Albans  House.  In  a  place  no  larger  than 
was  the  Brighton  of  those  days — before  even  the  Bedford 
Hotel  was  built — Her  Grace  was  naturally  the  subject  of 
many  can-cans.  The  first  time  she  came  to  Brighton  for 
the  season,  she  occupied  one  of  the  large  houses,  close 
to  ours,  on  Brunswick  Terrace ;  and  though  it  afforded  two- 
and-twenty  beds,  it  used  to  be  said  that  nineteen  of  the 
servants  had  to  be  provided  with  sleeping  accommodation 
outside.  Another  story  among  many  of  a  similar  charac- 
ter indicative  of  her  fabulous  wealth,  and  seriously  told,  was 
that  the  Duchess'  hair  was  curled  in  papillotes  of  bank- 


64 


GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 


Lady  Byron. 


The  Countess 
of  Aid- 
Jborougb. 


notes.  Her  equipages  were  handsome  and  well  appointed, 
making  a  feature  in  the  fashionable  drive  along  the  front, 
as,  very  often,  she  would  be  driven  a  la  Daumont. 

Lady  Byron  and  her  daughter  were  also  frequenters  of 
this  lively  sea-side  resort,  and  likewise  chose  Brunswick 
Terrace  for  their  residence. 

Among  Brighton  celebrities  may  be  reckoned  the  famous, 
not  to  say  notorious,  Countess  of  Aldborough,  though  Paris 
was  the  principal  scene  of  her  social  career.  Her  bons  mots 
were  witty,  and  tranchants  in  the  extreme,  the  more  easily 
made,  perhaps,  that  there  was  no  reserve  in  their  pro- 


* 


!*>VJ      ^" 

•  :  I  *  v 

*  *  I-          .    * 


THE  DUCHESS  OF  ST.  ALBAXS. 

duction.  She  had,  however,  excellent  points  in  her 
character,  and  in  Paris,  where  a  certain  amount  of 
Bohemianism  passes,  the  camaraderie  of  her  manners  found 
sympathizers  and  even  admirers. 

My  recollection  of  her,  is  of  the  time  at  which  she 
occupied  the  house  next  door  to  my  father's  on  Brunswick 
Terrace,  and  as  she  was  at  that  date  a  curious  specimen  of 
rejuvenized  antiquity,  her  appearance  was  such  as  to  make, 
and  to  leave  an  impression  on  the  mind  of  a  child.  Myste- 
rious stories  were  whispered  about  her,  and,  in  truth,  she  had 
a  witch-like  semblance,  and  her  wig,  her  rouge,  her  false 
teeth,  short  petticoats,  ramshackle  finery,  and  altogether 


COUNTESS  OP  ALDBOROUGH— MRS.  FITZHERBERT.      65 

unsuitable  style  of  dress  and  manner,  seemed  to  justify  the 
•description  she  acquired  from  our  old  nurse  of  "  an  old  ewe 
-dressed  lamb  fashion." 

Lady  Aldborough  lived  to  a  great  age,  and  no  doubt  her 
•energetic  disposition  and  high  spirits  did  much  to  maintain 
her  in  health.  She  once  fell  ill  in  London,  at  her  house  in 
Brook  Street,  and  had  to  submit  to  a  consultation  of  the 
Faculty ;  their  verdict  was  unfavourable,  and  one  of  them 
had  to  break  this  opinion  to  her,  by  recommending  her  to 
send  for  her  children.  The  patient  was  too  shrewd  not  to 
understand  what  this  meant. 

"  Ah !  "  said  she,  "I  see  you  think  I'm  dying;  but,  my 
good  sir,  my  own  feelings  tell  me  you  are  all  mistaken ;  so 
be  good  enough  to  look  at  the  case  the  other  way,  and  make 
up  your  minds  that  I  am  going  to  recover :  let  me  have  all 
the  remedies  and  the  best  treatment  you  can  think  of." 

The  patient  proved  more  knowing  than  the  doctors,  for 
she  not  only  recovered,  but  survived  for  many  years. 

Charles  Greville  speaks  of  this  extraordinary  woman  as 
still  living  in  1843,  and  says  he  met  her  at  Baden,  and  on 
the  9th  of  July,  dined  with  her  and  Mrs.  Murchison  (wife  of 
the  geologist,  afterwards .  Sir  Roderick)  :  it  was  at  an  hotel 
table  d'hote,  where,  he  writes,  "  Lady  A.'s  screaming  and 
strange  gestures  kept  me  in  alarm  lest  she  should  come 
out  with  some  of  those  extraordinary  things  which  she  does 
not  scruple  to  say  to  almost  anybody  she  talks  to.  She  is 
eighty-seven,"  he  continues,  "  but  still  vigorous,  and  has 
all  her  wits  about  her  :  only,  her  memory  is  gone,  for  she 
tells  a  story  and,  forgetting  she  has  told  it,  repeats  it  almost 
directly  after." 

Mrs.  Fitzherbert's  house  was  on  the  east  side  of  the  Old  Mrs-, 

Fitzherbert. 

Steine.  This  abnormal  wife  of  George  IV.,  among  other 
privileges  and  concessions  made  to  soften  down  the 
asperities  of  her  false  position,  was  allowed  to  sport  the 
Royal  liveries,  so'  that  her  carnage  with  servants  in 

scarlet  was  often  to  be  seen  standing  about  the  Steine  or 
VOL.  i.  (3 


66  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

dashing  along  the  drive.  She  died  in  that  house  on  March 
29,  1837,  aged  eighty.  This  once  beautiful  Miss  Smythe 
had  been  able  to  fascinate  three  successive  husbands ;  the 
last,  the  most  important,  though  not  the  most  reputable,, 
personage  in  the  world  ! 

The  Royal  Dukes,  George  lY.'s  brothers,  also  his  cousin 
and  brother-in-law,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  all  patronized 
Brighton.      The  brother  whom  I  remember  the  most  dis- 
tinctly, but  rather  in  London  than  at  Brighton,  was  the 
The  Duke  of    Duke  of  Sussex,  sometimes  familiarly  designated  as  "  Uncle 

Sussex. 

Buggin."  He  was  long  a  well-known  figure  to  the  residents 
of  Great  Cumberland  Place,  the  centre  house  in  the  Crescent, 
being  occupied  by  the  lady  to  whom  he  was  secretly 
married,  Lady  Cecilia  Underwood,  widow  of  Sir  George 
Buggin,  and  later,  Duchess  of  Inverness.  At  her  door  the 
equipage  of  His  Eoyal  Highness  was  to  be  seen  more  or 
less  frequently  at  all  hours  of  the  twenty-four.  As  this  was- 
but  five  doors  from  ours,  it  is  easy  to  me  to  recall  the 
Duke's  large  and  somewhat  unwieldy  figure  as  he  was. 
assisted  across  the  pavement  from  his  carriage,  by  two  tall, 
stalwart  lacqueys  with  powdered  hair  on  their  uncovered 
heads,  and  wearing  undress  liveries. 

The  Duke  used  to  sport  a  black  velvet  skull-cap,  thus 
showing  the  shape  of  his  head,  which  resembled  to  some- 
extent  that  of  his  royal  brother,  William  IV. 

The  Duke's  own  residence  was  in  Kensington  Palace,  and 
after  his  marriage  with  Lady  Cecilia  was  made  public,  they 
both  lived  there.  The  title  of  Duchess  of  Inverness  was 
not  conferred  on  Lady  Cecilia  without  Parliamentary  hesi- 
tation, which  occasioned  its  travesti  into — "  Duchess  Never- 
theless " — a  parallel  to  the  nickname  given  by  the  Parisian 
populace  to  the  brother  of  Madame  de  Pompadour,  who,, 
having  teased  the  King  into  creating  him  Marquis  de  la 
Vandiere,  had  the  mortification  to  hear  the  mushroom  title 
turned  by  the  populace  into  "  Marquis  d'avant  hier." 

Mr.  Adolphus  once  told  me  that  during  a  visit  he  paid  to  the; 


THE  DUKE  OF  CAMBRIDGE.  67 

Duke  of  Sussex  at  Kensington  Palace,  among  other  interesting 
incidents  was  the  entrance  of  Lady  Cecilia  Underwood,  who 
came  fortuitously  into  the  room  and  was  retiring,  when  the 
Duke  called  her  back  and  introduced  him  to  her;  she 
remained  a  few  minutes  and  when  she  was  gone,  the  Duke 
took  occasion  to  speak  of  her  in  terms  of  unbounded  admira- 
tion and  praise,  adding  significantly,  "  The  world  will  hear 
more  of  her  before  long."  No  doubt  she  had  then  made  up 
her  mind  she  should  be  styled  "Duchess,"  and  "  Ce  que 
femme  veut  .  .  ,"  &c. ! 

All  the  sons  of  George  III.  appear  to  have  borne  their 
last  illnesses  with  becoming  fortitude,  and  to  have  gone  out 
of  the  world  with  dignity ;  the  Duke  of  Sussex,  who  was 
much  beloved  by  those  about  him,  just  before  his  death,  was 
considerate  enough  to  order  that  all  his  servants  should  come 
to  his  bedside  to  take  leave  of  him.  With  some  he  shook 
hands,  others  were  allowed  to  kiss  his  hand,  and  all  were 
much  affected  by  this  last  act  of  thoughtfulness.  He  was 
buried  by  his  own  desire  in  the  Kensal  Green  Cemetery,  but 
with  the  addition  of  Eoyal  honours,  May,  1843. 

Of  the  other  Royal  Dukes  whom  I  remember,  the  Duke  The  Duke  of 
of  Cambridge  was  perhaps,  after  the  Duke  of  York,  the  most 
popular ;  though  Lady  Anne  Hamilton  *  would  have  us 
believe  there  was  not  a  Prince  of  the  house  of  Hanover  who 
was  entitled  to  any  kind  of  approval.  The  virulence, 
however,  with  which  she  attacks  the  successive  Courts  she 
describes,  is  so  obvious  that  it  defeats  its  own  purpose.  The 
Duke's  bonhomie  was  proverbial,  and  was  warmly  responded 
to  by  the  people.  Wherever  he  might  be,  it  was  impossible 
for  those  at  all  within  hearing  to  be  unconscious  of  his 
presence  :  he  always  spoke  in  a  loud  key,  and  had  in- 
herited his  royal  father's  habit  of  repeating  three  times — 
ingeniously  described  by  Horace  Walpole  as  "  triptology  " — 
any  remarks  it  might  occur  to  him  to  make,  and  sometimes 

*  Secret  History  of  the  Courts  of  George  111.  and  George  IV. 


68  .  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 

— for   it   was    more    like   thinking   aloud — he  forgot    how 
personal  they  were. 

He  constantly  attended  the  Sunday  morning  services  at 
St.  Paul's,  Knightsbridge,  in  the  time  of  the  Eev.  W.  J.  E. 
Bennett,  and  occasionally  was  pleased  to  express  in  an 
audible  tone  his  approbation  of  the  proceedings,  and  his 
opinion  of  the  sermon.  I  remember  on  one  occasion  when 
the  officiating  clergyman  pronounced  the  exhortation — 
"Let  us  pray " —the  Duke  bravely  responded  from  his 
pew  :— 

"Aye,  be  sure  ;  why  not?  let  us  pray,  let  us  pray,  let  us 
pray  !  ': 

On  another  occasion,  while  the  commandments  were  being 
read,  I  heard  him  remark — 

"  Steal !  no,  of  course  not ;  mustn't  steal,  mustn't  steal, 
mustn't  steal." 

At  the  opera,  this  eccentric  habit  betrayed  itself  in  a  still 
more  marked  and  frequent  way.  I  remember  once  hearing 
him  all  across  the  house,  exclaim,  as  he  moved  his  opera-glass 
round  the  circles — 

"  Why,  I  declare  there  are  not  half  a  dozen  pretty  girls 
in  the  house  ;  not  half  a  dozen,  not  half  a  dozen,  not  half  a 
•dozen." 

One  night  when  a  young  pupil  of  Molique's,  a  mere 
hoy,  was  playing  in  the  orchestra  from  his  master's  desk, 
the  Duke  who  was  very  observant  and  also  had  a  keen  ear 
for  music,  struck  by  his  precocity,  sent  between  the  acts  for 
the  boy  to  come  up  to  his  box,  which  was  opposite  ours, 
and  taking  him  on  his  knee  entered  into  a  lively  conver- 
sation with  him,  the  Duke's  share  in  the  dialogue  being 
heard  pretty  well  all  over  the  house.  All  that  generation  of 
the  Royal  Family  were  in  the  habit  of  talking  in  what  we 
will  call  a  cursory  way,  employing  expletives  rather  expres- 
sive than  choice.  "  D you  !  "  I  once  heard  the  Duke 

say  to  some  one  at  the  back  of  the  box,  "  Can't  you  keep 
that  door  shut  ?  " 


THE  DUKE  OF  CAMBRIDGE.  69 

The  Duke  died  in  July,  1850,  leaving  behind  him  a 
recollection  of  his  kind-heartedness  and  amiable  manners. 

An  instance  of  the  "  triptological "  habits  of  George  III. 
was  once  related  to  me  by  an  old  lady  who  had  met  the 
Eoyal  Family  at  Lul worth,  where,  though  the  residence  of 
an  old  and  strict  Catholic  family,  the  King  was  very  fond  of 
staying.  One  evening,  when,  at  a  ball  given  there,  Miss 
Weld,  the  daughter  of  the  house,  and  a  very  handsome  girl, 
was  dancing,  this  lady  heard  him  express  his  admiration  in 
the  characteristic  form  he  had  unconsciously  adopted. 

"Fine  woman,  fine  woman,  fine  woman!  Dances  well, 
dances  well,  dances  well." 

It  was  when  dining  at  Lulworth,  that  the  King  asked 
that  immortalized  question  about  the  apple- dumplings. 

The  Duke  of  Cambridge,  it  appears,  was  an  excellent 
judge  of  wine  ;  an  anecdote  in  proof  of  this  tells  us  that 
one  day  at  a  public  dinner  at  the  Freemasons'  Tavern,  he 
had  no  sooner  put  his  glass  to  his  lips  than  he  discovered 
that  there  must  be  something  wrong  with  that  vintage. 

"  Why  !  what's  this  ?  what's  this  ?  what's  this  ?  "  he  ex- 
claimed, holding  his  glass  up  to  the  light,  and  then  carrying 
it  to  his  nose. 

"  Eh  ?  "  he  continued  to  the  gentlemen  near  him,  "  what 
do  you  think  ?  Hadn't  we  better  get  some  from  the  other 
tables  ?  This  won't  do,  this  won't  do,  this  won't  do." 

Difficult  as  it  may  be  to  account  for  such  a  mishap,  it 
turned  out  on  inquiry  that  this  was  not  the  wine  that  had 
been  intended  for  the  Koyal  table.  Possibly  some  wag  had 
changed  it  ! 

A   semi-royal    personage,   more   or   less   about    London  The  Duke  of 
during  the  earlier  part  of  the  century,  was  the  Duke  of 
Brunswick,  brother  of  Queen  Caroline  and  son  of  "  Bruns- 
wick's fated  chieftain,"  who  so  bravely  at  Waterloo — 

"  Rushed  into  the  field,  and,  foremost  fighting,  fell." 

The  son  of  this  distinguished  father,  and  scion  of  a  long  line 


70  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 

of  remarkable  ancestors  was  also  remarkable,  but  in  quite 
another  way.  He  was  remarkable  for  his  follies,  his  eccen- 
tricities, his  quarrelsome  disposition  and  tyrannical  temper, 
for  his  diamonds,  and  for  a  number  of  less  admissible 
peculiarities.  In  London,  he  was  necessarily  a  well-known 
personality  wherever  he  might  be,  and  that  "  wherever  " 
extended  pretty  well  to  all  fashionable  places  of  resort— 
the  Kow,  the  Opera,  the  Clubs —  .  .  .  &c.,  &c.,  &c.  A 
recognized  habitue  of  the  coulisses,  he  might  generally  be 
seen  on  subscription  nights,  glittering  with  brilliants,  in 
and  out  of  Fops'  Alley. 

In  the  "Bow,"  too,  he  reckoned  as  one  of  the  "Dandies" 
of  the  day,  occupying  a  supreme  place  among  that  frivolous 
"set,"  and  "made  up"  to  a  wonderful  extent,  as  age  and 
fast  living  began  to  tell  upon  his  personal  appearance,  once 
so  prepossessing. 

His  stables  were  a  matter  of  great  pride  to  him,  and  he 
affected  a  breed  of  roan  horses,  for  which  he  paid  fabulous 
prices,  all  he  cared  for  being  that  no  one  else  should  ever 
own  a  horse  of  that  special  breed,  and  of  the  colour  which 
had  been  arrived  at  only  by  a  most  elaborate  system  of 
crossing.  Besides  his  horses,  which  might  fairly  be  called 
his  hobby,  he  availed  himself  of  his  privilege  as  millionaire 
to  indulge  in  fads  innumerable ;  and  as  he  was  never 
contradicted,  he  never  had  a  chance  of  discovering  how 
ludicrous  he  became.  Sic  volo,  sic  jubeo,  &c.,  was  the  rule 
of  his  life,  and  that  life  was  well  fitted  to  illustrate  the 
results  of  such  a  principle.  A  more  instructive,  and  cer- 
tainly a  more  entertaining,  biography  could  scarcely  be 
offered  to  the  student  of  human — especially  royal  human- 
nature.  So  incongruous  a  character  is  altogether  abnormal, 
made  up  as  it  was  of  contraries.  In  it  can  be  traced 
liberality  and  avarice,  bravery  and  self-indulgence,  shrewd- 
ness and  folly,  caution  and  rashness,  trustfulness  and 
suspicion,  generosity  and  vindictiveness,  self-assertion  and 
credulity ;  he  had  not  simply  les  clef  ants  de  ses  qualites,  but, 


THE  DUKE  OF  BEUNSWICK.  71 

unhappily,  his  vices  so  far  out-balanced  his  virtues,  that  the 
world  has  given  him  credit  for  none  of  the  latter.  His 
paternal  affection  for  his  only  daughter  by  his  short-lived 
.and  secret  marriage  —  was  it  even  a  marriage  ?  —  with 
Lady  Charlotte  Colville,  knew  no  limits,  until  "  la  petite 
Comtesse"  as  her  father  dotingly  called  her  while  indulging 
her  to  the  most  exaggerated  extent,  affronted  him — a  man 
•of  no  religious  principles  or  even  religious  sentiment — by 
allowing  herself  to  be  converted  to  Catholicism  under  the 
eloquent  teaching  of  the  great  and  irresistible  Dominican , 
Pere  Lacordaire.  After  this  event,  his  paternal  vindictiveness 
was  equally  boundless,  and  though  he  made  no  opposition 
to  her  marriage,  and  was  justly  proud  of  her  eldest  son, 
the  brave  and  gallant  young  Comte  de  Civry,  he  heartlessly 
refused,  even  after  she  became  a  widow,  to  pay  the  smallest 
heed  to  her  touching  appeals,  ignored  her  reiterated  repre- 
sentations of  the  straitened  circumstances  and  hard  struggles 
of  her  life,  and  preferred  leaving  her  and  her  eight  children 
penniless,  to  bestowing  on  those  he  chose  to  regard  as  per- 
verts one  sou  out  of  the  eighty  million  francs  he  bequeathed 
to  the  City  of  Geneva ;  bequeathing  it  in  this  insane  way 
simply  because  he  did  not  know  what  else  to  do  with  this 
fabulous  wealth.  No  doubt  there  were  evil  influences  at 
work  to  widen  his  alienation  from  his  daughter  and  her 
children,  in  order  to  profit  thereby,  and  those  who  brought 
about  this  criminal  result  must  have  been  cruelly  unscru- 
pulous ;  for  neither  did  they  allow  him,  even  in  his  will,  to 
remember  friends  who  had  made  great  sacrifices  for  him, 
who  had  clung  to  him,  despite  his  haughty  and  tyrannical 
treatment,  and  to  whose  services  he  had  more  than  once 
owed  his  life.  Indeed,  the  Duke's  adventures  are  full  of 
romance,  and  could  supply  materials,  not  for  one,  but  for 
half  a  dozen  novels.  Many  characteristic  stories  are  told 
of  this  eccentric  German  prince,  whose  ideas  of  personal 
independence  do  not  seem  to  have  been  shackled  by  any  of 
the  restraints  of  conventionality. 


72  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

On  the  death,  at  Waterloo,  of  his  father,  while  he  was 
yet  much  under  age,  George  IV.,  his  first  cousin,  and  after- 
wards his  brother-in-law,  had  become  his  guardian  :  His 
Majesty  being  King  of  Hanover,  and  Count  Minister,  at 
this  time  Hanoverian  Minister,  the  affairs  of  Brunswick 
fell  under  his  jurisdiction :  as  soon  as  the  young  Duke 
came  of  age,  he  brought  against  George  IV.  and  Count 
Miinster  charges  of  maladministration  of  his  fortune,  and 
occupied  himself  seriously  in  trying  to  magnify  and  to 
prove  his  allegations.  In  the  meantime,  so  intense  was  his 
hatred  of  Count  Miinster  ("  Le  Monstre,"  as  he  and  his 
party  styled  him)  that  he  vowed  nothing  would  satisfy 
him  but  taking  that  minister's  life.  He  had  a  wooden 
model  made  of  the  Count,  and  spent  two  hours  daily  in 
firing  at  it  with  a  pistol,  so  that  it  was  riddled  with  bullets. 
In  the  winter  of  1827,  he  sent  the  Count  a  challenge,  of 
which  the  latter  took  no  notice :  the  Duke  had  selected 
for  his  second,  Tattersall,  the  famous  horse-dealer. 

On  the  Duke's  first  arrival  in  England,  being  treated 
according  to  his  rank  as  a  distinguished  foreigner,  he  had 
been  handed  over  to  the  Duke  of  Sussex,  who  proceeded  to 
initiate  him  into  English  social  life,  and  to  lionize  him 
about  the  metropolis.  Among  other  objects  of  his  curiosity, 
the  Prince  intimated  to  His  Eoyal  Highness  his  great 
desire  to  witness  an  execution.  As  there  happened  to  be 
one  of  these  "functions"  on  the  tapis,  he  was  informed 
that  his  wish  could  be  gratified  two  days  on,  at  8  a.m. 

"  So :  "  said  he,  "  that  day  will  suit  me  very  well,  but  I 
must  get  your  Eoyal  Highness  to  have  the  time  changed. 
Two  hours  later  I  could  be  quite  ready  ;  as  I  go  to  Almack's 
the  previous  night,  I  shall  probably  not  get  to  bed  before 
three  or  four  in  the  morning." 

It  was  delicately  hinted  that  a  matter  of  criminal  law 
must  needs  take  its  course,  and  that,  even  for  a  Serene 
Highness,  no  alteration  could  be  made  in  the  Newgate 
arrangements,  so  that  he  was  finally  obliged  to  conform. 


THE  DUKE  OF  BRUNSWICK. 


However,  the  exhibition  did  not  prove  so  amusing  as  he  had 
expected  ;  for,  on  getting  home,  he  went  straight  to  bed, 
and  had  to  remain  there  a  couple  of  days  to  recover  from 
the  nervous  shock. 

This  "grotesque  Duke,"  as  some  French  writer  has  styled 
him,  made  himself  even  more  notorious  in  Paris  than  in 
London  ;  he  was,  in  fact,  what  might  be  called  a  "  comedy 
Prince  "  —  "  un  Due  pour  rire  "  —though  his  title  was  a  very 
ancient  one,  and  his  father  and  grandfather  were  heroes.  The 
French  have  always  taken  advantage  of  every  opportunity  to 
make  game  of  the  grave,  phlegmatic,  self-  dignifying  Germans; 
having,  therefore,  got  hold  of  one  of  Germany's  aristocracy 
who  laid  himself  open  to  so  much  ridicule,  they  availed  them- 
selves of  the  chance  with  more  mirth  than  mercy.  Bondos, 
lampoons,  parodies  of  German  songs,  most  of  them  exceed- 
ingly clever,  were  employed  ad  libitum  to  bring  contempt 
on  this  souverain  declasse,  —  deposed,  from  a  sentiment  of 
national  dignity,  by  his  own  people  —  and,  through  him, 
on  the  country  which  had  had  the  misfortune  to  give  him 
birth  ;  and  really  his  rnad  freaks,  his  strange  and  lawless 
mode  of  life,  and  the  extraordinary  absurdity  of  his  "  get 
up  "  were  such,  that  while  the  graver  portion  of  the  com- 
munity could  not  look  upon  him  without  humiliation,  the 
more  humorous  considered  themselves  privileged  to  laugh 
at  him,  even  to  his  face.  The  detail  of  his  unconventional 
practices  and  habits  would  require  a  volume  to  itself.  As 
he  passed  for  an  eccentric,  and  was  always  calling  attention 
to  himself  in  public,  it  was  not  surprising  he  should  become 
the  subject  of  continual  gossip,  and  no  doubt  the  report  of 
his  actual  vagaries  were  embellished  before  they  reached 
the  general  public.  The  abnormal  appearance  he  presented 
when,  after  rising  at  3  o'clock  p.m.,  and  spending  three- 
hours  on  his  toilet,  he  rode  or  drove  in  the  park,  or  walked 
out  into  the  streets,  could  scarcely  be  exaggerated.  He- 
possessed  a  collection  of  silk  wigs  of  various  hues,  but  all 
consistiug  of  small  tire-bouchon  curls;  his  face  was  liberally 


74  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

painted  with  both  red  and  white,  and  his  toilet  was  pains- 
takingly elaborated,  while  diamonds  of  the  finest  water 
glittered  upon  his  garments  wherever  they  could  possibly 
be  applied. 

Of  course,  when  he  wore  evening  dress  he  had  a  better 
opportunity  for  displaying  these  gems,  of  which  he  had  the 
largest  and  finest  collection  in  the  world.  It  is  said  that 
one  night  in  Paris,  being  at  a  fashionable  soiree,  the  ladies 
•crowded  round  him  to  an  extent  which  at  first  flattered  his 
vanity  considerably ;  but  at  last  their  persistent  curiosity 
and  admiration  became  troublesome,  and  to  one  of  the  fair 
bevy  who  remarked,  "  Mais,  mon  Dieu,  Monseigneur,  vous 
•en  avez  partout !  "  he  replied,  "  Oui,  madame,  jusque  sur 
mon  calecon ;  voulez  vous  que  je  vous  les  fasse  voir  ?  " 

The  Duke  never  put  on  the  same  pair  of  gloves  twice, 
and  all  his  clothes,  discarded  with  similar  recklessness, 
were  of  the  costliest  materials.  As  he  was  barely  of  middle 
height,  he  thought  proper  to  wear  heels  inside,  as  well  as 
•outside,  his  boots,  which  made  his  walk  rather  peculiar. 
He  would  sometimes  show  himself  in  the  balcony  of  his 
house  in  Paris  habited  in  a  rich  Oriental  costume,  and 
smoking  a  long  Eastern  pipe,  to  the  intense  amusement  of 
the  gaping  crowd  below. 

In  London  he  occupied  Brunswick  House,  but  his  Paris 
residence  was  planned,  constructed,  and  worked  on  the  most 
•extraordinary  principles :  it  might  be  said  to  be  almost 
automatic.  The  Duke  might  have  made  a  great  reputation 
and  a  great  fortune  as  an  engineer ;  the  various  mechanisms 
he  invented  and  applied  in  this  wonderful  Paris  palace 
would  have  puzzled  the  heads  of  half  the  inventors  in 
France.  They  were  designed  to  enable  him  to  carry  on  his 
existence  in  the  most  mysterious  way ;  for  he  was  suspicious 
•of  every  one  about  him,  and  trusted  nobody.  He  kept 
under  his  roof  a  mine  of  wealth  in  notes,  specie,  and  jewels, 
.and  concealed  them  so  cleverly,  that  no  one  could  possibly 
obtain  access  to  them  but  himself,  the  secret  communica- 


THE  DUKE  OF  BRUNSWICK.  75 

tion  being  masked  by  the  most  delicate  satin  furniture.*  In 
order  that  he  might  never  be  betrayed,  after  he  had  designed 
his  occult  machinery,  he  made  separate  working-drawings 
of  every  portion,  and  had  them  executed  in  different  parts 
of  Europe,  and  in  such  a  way  that  he  could  put  them 
together  himself,  each  separate  portion  having  no  intelligible 
meaning.  A  great  many  of  these  mechanical  appliances 
were  invented  to  enable  him,  as  much  as  possible,  to  be 
independent  of  servants. 

In  continual  dread  of  poison,  he  never  ate  at  home,  and 
the  kitchen  was  employed  solely  for  his  household :  he  dined 
•every  day  at  a  different  restaurant,  never  giving  previous 
notice  of  his  coming ;  and  as  he  was  quite  a  gourmet,  and 
frequented  only  first-class  houses,  he  had  to  ring  the 
changes  on  the  few  best. 

The  house  was  situated  in  one  of  the  healthiest  and 
most  fashionable  parts  of  Paris.  We  find,  in  a  note  to 
Arsene  Houssaye's  Confessions^  an  elaborate  description 
of  the  Quartier  Beaujon,  at  one  time  the  Promised 
Land  of  poets  and  artists,  stage-players,  students,  and 
authors.  It  occupies  a  large  space  at  the  extremity  of  the 
Faubourg  St.  Honore,  and  reaches,  or  rather  reached,  as 
far  as  the  Barriere  de  1'Etoile.  The  park,  of  which  the 
residence  was  the  centre,  was  formerly  the  property  of 
Nicolas  Beaujon,  a  wealthy  parvenu,  hailing  from  the 
Bordelaisian  vineyards,  and  who  spent  a  great  part  of 
his  fortune  in  founding  the  Hopital  Beaujon.  This  pro- 
perty no  longer  exists  as  it  was  in  his  time ;  it  is  cut  up 
into  blocks  of  superb  hotels  ;  "  avenues  "  and  boulevards 
traverse  it,  and  villas,  some  of  which  are  little  short  of 
palaces,  are  scattered  over  it ;  the  one  I  speak  of — larger  and 


::  Notwithstanding  all  these  cleverly-planned  precautions,  the  Duke  was  the 
victim  of  two  serious  robberies,  to  say  nothing  of  smaller  and  unperceivetl  depre- 
dations. One  of  these  took  place  in  185G  ;  the  other  in  1863.  The  value  of  his 
diamonds  was  estimated  at  eight  million  francs,  .£320,000. 

f  Vol.  iii.  p.  350 


76  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 

more  magnificent,  and  also  more  celebrated  than  the  rest — 
has  been  rendered  famous,  first,  by  the  fact  that  it  was- 
built  by  Lola  Montes,  and,  secondly,  that  it  became  the 
palace  of  the  eccentric  Duke  Charles  of  Brunswick.  Mon- 
selet  thus  describes  it  :— 

"  .  .  .  Un  hotel  qu'on  dirait  bati  en  pate  tendre,  est 
celui  de  Monsieur  le  Due  de  Brunswick,  un  des  personnages 
les  plus  renommes  par  leur  faste  original,  et  bien  plus  conmi 
a  Paris  que  dans  son  royaume." 

I  have  often  passed  this  extraordinary  dwelling ;  its  im- 
posing dimensions,  and  the  fortress-like  stone  wall  which 
surrounds  it  (surmounted  by  a  revolving  clievaux  de  friser 
the  slightest  touch  on  any  part  of  which  started  an  alarum 
of  chimes),  give  it  a  commanding  appearance  in  the  tranquil 
Eue  du  Bel-respiro,  in  which  is  one  side  of  it,  the  others  form- 
ing a  long  stretch  in  the  Avenue  Friedland  and  the  Eue 
Beaujon  respectively  :  five  enormous  double  doors  of  massive 
iron,  studded  with  nail-heads  and  painted  bronze  green, 
occurred  in  the  walls  and  added  to  the  solemnity  of  its 
character ;  but  the  interior  decorations  and  furniture  were 
those  of  an  Oriental  sybarite. 

When  the  Duke  drove  or  rode,  whether  in  the  streets  or 
the  Bois,  attended  by  his  chasseur,  every  head  turned  to 
see  him  pass,  and  well  they  might.  His  horses  were 
magnificent,  and  his  equipages  of  the  most  finished 
description ;  but  though  his  chief  object  seemed  to  be  the 
silly  one  of  attracting  attention,  it  never  appeared  to  occur 
to  him  that  he  made  himself  an  object  of  universal  ridicule.. 
His  diet  was  as  curious  as  the  rest :  he  was  remarkably 
sober  with  regard  to  wines  and  spirits ;  but  consumed  an 
enormous  quantity  of  trash.  It  was  wonderful  how  he 
would  go  into  one  confectioner's  after  another,  if  any  sweet 
in  the  etalage  took  his  fancy,  and  he  would  eat  daintily,  but 
plentifully,  of  bonbons  and  petits  fours  at  any  hour  of  the 
day.  He  was  constantly  to  be  seen  at  Tortoni's,  where 
he  would  consume  an  unlimited  number  of  ices,  and  when. 


THE  DUKE  OF  BEUNSWICK.  77 

there,  instead  of  ordering  up  any  specified  confectionery, 
preferred  lounging  into  the  store-rooms  and  tasting  here  and 
there,  often  as  much  to  kill  time  as  to  indulge  his  palate  : 
yet  notwithstanding  these  effeminate  or,  rather,  childish 
caprices,  he  had  given  remarkable  proofs  of  high  spirit  and 
consummate  bravery,  and  in  his  futile  attempts  to  recover 
the  political  position  he  had  lost,  and  to  regain  his  ancient 
principality,  he  had  rather  courted  than  shunned  posts  of 
danger,  and  had  gone  through  some  of  the  boldest  feats  and 
hairbreadth  'scapes  that  ever  any  hero  survived.  These 
warlike  episodes  in  his  life  read  more  like  fable  than  reality. 

The  Duke  had  generously  and  with  great  profuseness, 
also  probably  with  an  eye  to  the  .future,  assisted  Louis 
Napoleon  when  in  prison,  and  probably  without  his  succour 
that  Prince  would  never  have  escaped  from  Ham.  The 
two  had  also  entered  into  a  compact  to  stand  by  each 
other,  and  it  was  while  in  England  struggling  against 
his  guardians  and  trustees  whom  he  held  responsible 
for  the  loss  of  his  Duchy  (really  "  Principality  ")  of 
Brunswick,  that  he  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  this 
treaty  and  ally  himself  practically  with  Louis  Napoleon, 
though  his  hatred  of  Napoleon  I.  and  the  vengeance  he  had 
sworn  against  him  were  readily  to  be  accounted  for. 

The  Duke  of  Brunswick  is  thus  most  accurately  described 
by  the  writer  of  the  Diary  of  the  Times  of  George  TV.  :  * 

"  The  Duke  just  misses  being  a  handsome  man ;  his 
figure  is  light  and  graceful,  and  did  he  but  carry  his  head 
better  he  would  be  a  noble-looking  creature.  His  eyes  are 
deep  sunk  in  his  head,  more  so  than  I  ever  saw  in  any  one, 
and  his  brows  are  remarkably  prominent  with  shaggy  eye- 
brows. This  circumstance  gives  him  a  sombre  expression, 
and  indeed,  the  whole  cast  of  his  countenance  is  gloomy, 
but  his  features  are  regular  :  and  when  he  smiles,  there  is  a 
transitory  sweetness  which  is  very  striking,  by  the  contrast 

*  ?  Lady  Charlotte  Bury — who  may,  be  relied  upon,  par  exception,  in  thip. 


78  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUKY. 

with  his  usual  severity  of  expression.  In  manner  he  is  very 
reserved — stiff  and  Germanic.  He  remained  some  time 
conversing  with  his  sister  "  (Queen  Caroline)  "  in  German, 
occasionally  eyeing  the  lady  in  waiting,  askance.  He 
seemed  glad  to  take  his  leave." 

Further  on  this  writer  affirms  that  the  Duke's  sister,  the 
Princess  of  Wales,  did  not  seem  on  very  cordial  terms  with 
him ;  she  also  says,  "  He  is  very  silent,  and  appears 
somewhat  of  a  misanthrope." 

As  I  have  often  seen  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  in  London,, 
though  many  years  ago,  I  was  at  once  struck  with  the  very 
truthful  picture  of  him  I  have  quoted  above.  It  is  to  be 
regretted  that  his  wig,  which  was  as  remarkable  as  any 
other  detail  of  his  appearance,  is  not  mentioned  in  the 
description  :  perhaps  the  period  named  was  antecedent  to  that 
at  which  he  employed  this  absurdity.  Though  he  had  silk 
wigs,  of  all  hues,  kept  on  stands  on  the  shelves  of  a  large  ward- 
robe with  glass  doors,  I  never  saw  him  in  any  but  a  black  one ; 
I  do  not  know  if  he  intended  it  to  pass  for  human  hair,  but 
the  tight  corkscrew  ringlets  of  which  it  consisted,  as  they 
hung  down  all  round  his  head,  from  beneath  his  hat,  produced 
a  most  unnatural  effect,  especially  combined  with  the  large 
allowance  of  red  and  white  paint  on  his  face.  The  make- 
•  up  of  his  face  and  figure  occupied  himself  and  two  valets 
rather  more  than  three  hours  daily.  Often  when  this 
elaborate  process  was  completed,  he  would  change  his 
mind  and  ask  for  a  wig  of  a  different  colour,  when  extensive 
alterations  had  to  be  made  both  in  his  toilet  and  in  the 
make-up  of  his  face  to  suit  the  fresh  head-gear  ! 

It  was  on  the  31st  of  March,  1851,  that  the  Duke  of 
Brunswick,  who  had  sworn  he  would  never  again  set  foot  on 
a  Channel  steamer,  but  who  considered  the  moment  when 
matters  seemed  so  favourable  to  Louis  Napoleon's  preten- 
sions a  suitable  one  for  visiting  France,  started  for  that 
country  in  a  balloon  :  he  had,  shortly  before,  made  the 
attempt,  but  failed  to  carry  it  through ;  nothing  daunted,, 


A  BALLOON  VOYAGE.  79- 

however,  he  decided  on  a  fresh  start,  this  time  from 
Hastings,  attended  by  Mr.  Green  the  aeronaut.  The  hour 
at  which  the  balloon  was  let  loose  was  half-past  one  p.m., 
and  she  rose  gallantly,  the  assembled  spectators  cheering 
lustily.  As  may  be  supposed,  the  adventurous  machine 
was  earnestly  watched,  and  when  about  mid-channel  was 
seen  to  descend  to  a  much  lower  level,  so  that  the- 
occupants  of  the  car  could,  by  means  of  their  speaking- 
trumpet,  converse  with  some  boatmen  on  the  water. 
Shortly  after,  the  heat  of  the  atmosphere  acting  upon  the 
gas,  the  balloon  took  a  sudden  upward  movement  and  rose 
to  about  4,000  feet.  When  within  a  few  miles  of  the 
French  coast,  the  travellers  observed  two  men  walking  on 
the  sands,  which  were  very  wide  on  account  of  the  ebb-tide. 
One  of  these  worthies  foolishly  caught  hold  of  the  guide- 
rope  which  was  trailing  behind  the  balloon,  and  was- 
immediately  dashed  violently  to  the  ground ;  the  other, 
somehow,  got  his  feet  upon  the  rope  and  involuntarily 
performed  an  extemporised  somersault  in  the  air. 

The  Duke  and  his  travelling  companion  were  now 
sufficiently  near  to  distinguish  in  the  valley,  a  village- 
en  fete,  from  which,  at  sight  of  the  balloon,  issued  forth  a 
number  of  peasants  ;  to  these  the  Duke  shouted  through 
his  speaking-trumpet,  telling  them  how  to  act,  and  his- 
instructions  being  intelligently  carried  out,  the  balloon 
touched  the  earth  almost  without  a  shock,  and  the 
travellers  found  themselves  at  Neufchatel,  about  ten  miles 
south-west  of  Boulogne  and  half  a  mile  from  a  railway 
station,  the  voyage  having  occupied  five  hours. 

The  Duke  got  into  a  train  for  Paris,  and  Mr.  Green 
returned  to  Boulogne  with  the  apparatus.  I  have  been 
told  the  Duke  chartered  two  steamers,  by  way  of  precaution, 
to  follow  his  movements. 

The  Duke  of  Brunswick's  appearance  was  so  singular, 
that  he  was  often  taken  for  one  of  those  "  chevaliers  "  who 
have  their  habitat  in  the  vicinity  of  Ley-ces-Ure  Sqvare* 


SO  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

One  night  when  out  on  a  spree,  he  was  run  in  by  a 
constable,  who  carried  him  off  to  the  station-house,  and 
it  was  with  some  difficulty  he  proved  his  identity.  It  is 
said  that  Mr.  Charles  Dickens,  hearing  of  the  incident, 
remarked,  that  "that  policeman  deserves  promotion." 

In  one  of  the  scandalous  periodicals  of  the  time,  occurs 
a  story  to  the  effect  that  the  Duke  was  carrying  on  an 
intrigue  with  a  married  lady  in  Shropshire,  and  hearing 
that  her  husband  was  absent,  he  arranged  to  meet  her  at 
an  hotel  in  Shrewsbury.  On  his  arrival,  he  ordered  a 
sourer  fin  for  two,  but  his  strange  appearance  and  his 
broken  English  raised  suspicion  in  the  mind  of  the  waiter 
who  had  not  much  experience  in  foreign  customers.  A 
gentleman  who  was  staying  at  the  hotel,  heard  the  orders 
given  by  the  Duke,  and  observing  the  waiter's  embarrassed 
air,  looked  more  particularly  at  His  Serene  Highness  :  as 
soon  as  the  latter  had  withdrawn,  he  advised  the  man  to 
communicate  with  the  landlord,  before  carrying  out  the 
instructions  given  him,  as  he  thought  the  stranger  had  the 
appearance  of  an  escaped  French  prisoner.  The  landlord 
took  the  alarm  and,  calling  in  the  assistance  of  the  police, 
had  the  Duke  arrested. 

As  the  errand  on  which  he  had  come  to  Shrewsbury  was 
not  one  in  which  his  name  could  creditably  appear,  the 
Duke  found  himself  in  a  most  awkward  predicament,  and 
thought  the  safest  way  out  of  it  would  be  to  say  he  was  an 
officer  in  the  Duke  of  Brunswick's  German  legion.  No  one 
present,  however,  would  accept  this  explanation,  and  after 
making  a  terrible  splutter  of  words  and  oaths,  half  German, 
half-broken  English,  the  Duke  became  so  exasperated  that 
he  forgot  his  prudential  reticence,  and  declared  himself  to 
be  no  other  than  the  Duke  himself.  At  this  there  was  a 
universal  guffaw,  and  the  insults  he  received  were  the  more 
humiliating  that  they  wrere  unconsciously  applied. 

"  You  a  Duke  !  "  said  the  landlord;  "  why  you  are  more 
like  a  dancing-master." 


PRINCESS  VICTORIA  OF  COORG.  81 

"  Or  a  perfumer,"  said  another. 

"  No ;  you  must  be  taken  before  a  magistrate  and  be 
made  to  account  for  yourself." 

While  the  dispute  was  at  its  height,  fortunately  for  the 
Duke,  Mr.  Forrester,  son-in-law  to  the  Duke  of  Kutland, 
happened  to  arrive,  and  naturally  inquired  into  what  was 
going  on  :  the  landlord,  who  knew  him,  was  only  too  glad 
to  ask  his  advice,  and  learnt,  at  once,  to  his  unmitigated 
terror,  that  it  was  the  Queen's  own  brother  whom  he  had 
been  maltreating  with  so  much  freedom.  Of  course  apologies 
and  excuses  of  all  kinds  were  offered,  and  as  the  Duke's 
object  now  was  to  get  away  without  betraying  his  reasons 
for  being  there,  furious  as  he  was,  he  had  no  choice  but  to 
accept  them.  How  he  settled  matters  with  the  lady  does 
not  appear,  but  as  no  action  in  which  he  was  "  co-respondent " 
has  been  recorded,  it  is  presumable  they  managed  somehow 
to  hush  up  the  affair.  The  Duke's  fabulous  wealth,  no 
doubt,  served  to  get  him  out  of  many  scrapes.* 

To  turn  to  a  sprig  of  royalty  of  quite  another  stock,  I  f 

was  at  an  evening  party  in  1853  at  the  house  of  Colonel  Coorg. 
Pennefather  in  St.  John's  Wood,  where  I  met  the  little 
Princess  Gauramma,  of  whom  he  and  Mrs.  Pennefather  had 
charge.  She  was  the  daughter  of  "  His  Highness  Prince 
Yere  Rajunder,  ex-Rajah  of  Coorg."  His  dominions,  it  will 
be  remembered,  had  been  taken  possession  of  by  England 
somewhere  about  1840,  and  the  dethroned  Sovereign  had 
been  delegated  to  a  sort  of  State  prison  in  Benares,  where 
he  had  lived  ever  since,  under  the  control  of  "  John 
Company,"  with  an  allowance  of  .£6,000  a  year. 

The  little  daughter  in  question  was  the  child  of  a 
favourite  wife  who  died  in  giving  her  birth,  and  her  father 
showed  a  great  predilection  for  her  over  his  other  ten  sons 
and  daughters.  I  don't  remember  on  what  occasion  it  was 
that  she  was  brought  to  England,  nor  why  the  ex-Rajah 

*  The  Duke  of  Brunswick  was  born  in  1804,  and  died  August  19,  1878. 
VOL.  i.  7 


82  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 


consented  to  her  being  brought  up  in  the  Christian  faithr 
nor  yet  how  it  was  that  he  agreed  to  part  with  her  and  leave 
her  to  be  educated  in  this  country ;  but  so  it  was,  and  the- 
Queen  had  her  at  Court,  and  took  great  notice  of  her.  She 
was  baptized  at  Buckingham  Palace  in  1852,  Her  Majesty 
standing  sponsor  and  giving  her  the  name  of  Victoria :  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  performed  the  ceremony,  and  the 
godfather  was  Sir  James  Weir  Hogg. 

The  little  "  Princess  Victoria  of  Coorg,"  as  she  was- 
afterwards  called,  was  married  at  an  early  age,  and  died  at 
the  birth  of  her  first  child. 

She  was  an  interesting,  but  apparently  not  very  intelligent 
young  girl,  nor  had  she,  at  the  time  I  saw  her,  acquired  any 
accomplishments  beyond  the  three  "  R's  "  and  an  imperfect 
idea  of  the  use  of  the  needle.  Her  complexion  was  dark,, 
and  she  had  fine  hair  and  eyes,  but  the  latter  wore  the 
sleepy,  melancholy  expression  typical  of  Oriental  birth,  and 
she  moved  in  a  languid,  listless  way,  rather  dragging,  than 
lifting,  her  feet.  Morally,  she  was  described  to  me  by  her 
guardian  and  his  wife,  as  gentle,  docile,  and  affectionate. 


SOCIAL,   LITERARY,   AND  POLITICAL 
CELEBRITIES. 


''  The  greatest  and  best  men  have  more  impressed  the  world  by  their  voice, 
accent,  mien,  and  casual  expressions — in  fact,  by  their  simple,  unconscious  pre- 
sentment of  themselves — than  by  set  speeches.  In  a  social  circle,  a  man  takes  his 
place  by  what  he  says  and  does  in  the  midst  of  it,  from  one  moment  to  another." 

TIMES  (leader),  25th  December,  1880. 

"  In  these  polished  times  a  man's  real  character  is  seldom  to  be  got  at,  from 
the  general  tenor  of  his  conduct.  The  laws  of  the  land  and  the  laws  of  society 
have,  together,  the  effect  of  rubbing  down  smooth,  nearly  all  the  prominent 
points  of  the  disposition,  those  landmarks  of  the  mind  which  separate  one 
individual  from  another.  A  slight  word,  a  look,  an  exclamation,  will  often  let 
the  seemingly  careless  auditor  deeply  into  the  secret." 

Essays  and  Criticisms,  by  T.  G.  WAINWRIGHT,  p.  50  (note). 


CHAPTER    II. 

SOCIAL,   LITERARY,   AND  POLITICAL   CELEBRITIES. 

"  Life  is  a  leaf  of  paper  white 
On  which  each  one  of  us  may  write 
His  word  or  two — then  comes  the  night ! '' 

J.  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 

"  Les  hommes  se  succedent,  et  ne  se  resseuiblent  pas." — CARNOT. 

A  REMARKABLE  figure  at  the    West-end  of  London  Jo^nEx1rwes,, 
"The  Miser." 
towards   the   close    of    the    last    century — personally 

known  (though  not  to  myself)  to  my  father  who 
had  many  anecdotes  to  tell  of  him — was  John  Elwes, 
surnained,  and  apparently  not  without  reason,  "  The 
Miser,"  though,  strange  to  say,  like  all  misers,  he  was 
on  occasion,  munificent  in  his  liberalities.  His  miserly 
proclivities  were,  however,  so  marked,  and  avarice  was  so 
inherent  in  his  nature  that,  as  he  had  inherited,  so  also 
he  transmitted,  to  a  certain  extent,  his  deplorable  pecu- 
liarities. His  son  was  living  in  Portman  Square  within  my 
recollection,  and  I  once  accompanied  a  common  friend  who 
was  paying  him  a  morning  call ;  we  were  shown  into  his 
morning-room  where  he  sat  shivering  for  want  of  a  fire, 
which  he  did  not  allow  himself,  though  it  was  winter,  and 
he  was  so  poorly  clad  that  he  might  easily  have  passed 
himself  off  as  a  pauper.  He  received  us  courteously,  and 
talked  pleasantly  enough  on  subjects  of  the  day,  till  my 
friend,  who  had  been  casting  his  eyes  curiously  round  the 
room  at  the  singular  hangings  —  not  tapestries  —  which 


86 


GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 


masked  the  walls,  was  about  to  address  the  owner  on  the 
subject,  when  he  bravely  anticipated  the  expression  of  this 
astonishment  by  remarking  good-humouredly — 

"Ah!  I  see,  you  are  amused  at  the  decoration  of  my 
room.  I  daresay  it  looks  to  you  like  an  '  old  clo  '  shop  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  does,  my  dear  fellow,  and  I  must  say  I  am 
curious  to  know  what  you  can  be  intending  to  do  with  such 
a  collection." 

"Do  with  them?"  answered  he,  "why  upon  my  word 
that's  more  than  I  can  tell  you  myself." 


JOHN  ELWES,  "  THE  MISER." 


"  Then  why  on  earth  do  you  keep  them  there,  I  arn  sure 
none  of  them  could  be  worn  again,  though  they  seem  to  be 
kept  carefully  brushed." 

"  Oh  yes,  they're  brushed  twice  a  week,  though  I've  no 
intention  of  wearing  them  again ;  but,  do  you  know,  I  can't 
part  with  them ;  it's  strange,  isn't  it  ?  and  I  can  only 
account  for  it  by  the  fact  that  I  am  the  descendant  of  my 
ancestors."  A  case  of  "  atavism"  if  ever  there  was  one. 

To  the  student  of  character,  there  is  scarcely  a  life  more 


JOHN  EL  WES.  87 


curiously  interesting  than  that  of  John  Elwes,  the  father 
of  this  gentleman,  himself  also  now  dead.  Perhaps  a  nobler 
heart  never  beat,  and  yet  his  finer  attributes  were  marred, 
overwhelmed,  neutralized  by  the  unfortunate  habit  of 
hoarding,  which  at  last  became  an  absolute  mania,  destroy- 
ing the  happiness  of  his  own  life  as  well  as  of  those  who 
held  kinship  with  him,  though  it  does  not  seem  to  have 
alienated  the  affection  of  his  servants,  who  faithfully  and 
uncomplainingly  shared  the  hardships  he  imposed  on  him- 
self and  them.  A  very  interesting  biography  of  John 
Elwes,  written  by  a  relative  of  his,  Mr.  Edward  Tophara, 
if  in  a  somewhat  antiquated  style,  still  bears  upon  it  the 
stamp  of  sincerity,  and  appears  to  furnish  a  most  impartial 
record  of  this  singular  being.  The  passion  which  dis- 
figured John  Elwes's  otherwise  fine  disposition  must  be 
admitted  to  have  been  an  hereditary  moral  disease  ;  it  was 
frightfully — not  to  say  disgustingly — developed  in  his  mother, 
Ajny  Elwes,  who  had  married  John  Meggot — John  Elwes 
(born  Meggot)  having  assumed  together  with  the  inheri- 
tance, the  patronymic  of  his  maternal  uncle  Sir  Hervey 
Elwes.  This  lady,  though  possessed  at  the  time  of  her 
death  of  <£100,000,  allowed  herself  to  die  of  starvation, 
iind  miserable  stories  survive  illustrative  of  her  sordid  and 
degrading  meanness. 

Old  John  Elwes,  like  most  of  those  who  have  attained  a 
great  age,  had  a  thorough  contempt  for  physicians :  tradi- 
tion has  preserved  an  amusing  instance  of  his  sentiments 
on  this  subject  : — 

"One  night,  when  out — owing  to  his  penurious  resolve  that 
he  would  save  the  expense  of  a  conveyance — he  met  with  a 
rather  serious  accident.  .  .  .  The  night  was  very  dark,  the 
street  badly  lighted,  and  while  hurrying  along,  he  came  with 
such  violence  against  the  pole  of  a  sedan-chair  which  he  did 
not  see,  that  he  cut  both  his  shins  to  the  bone  ;  it  would  have 
been  as  contrary  to  his  principles  as  it  was  to  his  practice 
to  call  in  a  doctor,  but  Colonel  Pimins,  at  whose  house  he 


88  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

was  staying  in  Orchard  Street,  insisted  on  sending  for 
surgical  advice,  and  old  Elwes  at  length  submitted.  The 
practitioner  immediately  began  to  expatiate  on  the  condi- 
tion of  the  wound,  and  the  serious  consequences  of  breaking 
the  skin ;  on  the  good  fortune  of  his  having  been  sent  for, 
and  the  peculiarly  bad  appearance  of  the  case,  &c.,  &c. 
'  Very  probably  you  are  right,'  said  the  patient ;  '  but,  Mr. 
Sawbones,  I  have  one  thing  to  say  to  you ;  I  do  not  con- 
sider myself  much  hurt ;  now  you  think  I  am ;  so  I  will 
make  this  agreement :  I  will  take  one  leg  and  you  shall  have 
the  other ;  you  shall  do  what  you  please  with  yours,  and  I 
will  do  nothing  to  mine,  and  I  will  wager  you  the  amount 
of  your  bill  that  my  leg  gets  well  first.'  Elwes  delighted 
in  telling  this  story,  and  used  to  assert  with  triumphant 
glee  that  he  '  beat  the  apothecary  by  a  fortnight.' ' 

The  many  generous  acts  which  marked  the  bizarre  exis- 
tence of  this  ingeniously  close-fisted  fellow  should  not  be 
passed  over  in  silence ;  they  were,  in  fact,  more  noble  in 
him  than  they  would  have  been  in  a  man  of  liberal  habits. 

If  we  except  the  niggardly  way  in  which  he  provided  for 
his  household,  we  might  say  that  he  really  was  stingy  only 
where  he  himself  was  concerned ;  and  he  seemed  to  take  a 
real  pleasure  in  personal  privations,  in  contenting  himself 
with  food,  clothing,  and  accommodation  generally,  of  the 
worst  description  and  the  meanest  quality ;  and  yet  with 
all  this,  when  he  considered  the  occasion  an  opportune  oney 
we  find  him  bestowing  important  sums,  sometimes  without 
even  being  asked,  and  on  persons  he  knew  but  slightly. 

He  would,  when  riding  out,  scramble  over  dangerous 
banks  and  travel  miles  out  of  his  way,  making  those  who 
rode  with  him  do  the  same,  to  save  a  turnpike  toll ;  he  would 
ride  at  a  foot's  pace  in  order  that  his  horse  might  feed,  as 
he  went  along,  on  hay  caught  in  the  hedges,  asserting  it 
was  "not  only  nice  hay,  but  you  got  it  for  nothing,"  at  the 
same  time  that  he  was  lending  unsolicited  £1,000  to  a 
Captain  Tempest,  of  whom  he  knew  very  little,  to  enable 


JOHN  ELWES'S  GENEROSITY.  89- 

him  to  purchase  a  vacancy  in  a  Majority  (which  he  needed 
as  a  means  of  livelihood),  lest  a  wealthier  man  should 
obtain  it  over  his  head,  while  he  was  trying  to  raise  the- 
rnoney.  It  is  worthy  Of  note  that  he  never  once  alluded  to- 
this  circumstance  again  ;  and  though  on  Captain  Tempest's 
death,  the  sum  was  refunded  to  him,  this  does  not  detract 
from  the  ready  generosity  and  subsequent  forbearance  of 
this  singular  man,  who  certainly  never  thought  of  being  reim- 
bursed. On  the  same  day  on  which  he  had  performed  another 
similarly  generous  act,  he  had  dined  on  a  mouldy  crust  he- 
picked  up  on  the  road,  alighting  from  his  horse  to  secure 
it.  Notwithstanding  his  love  of  money,  his  integrity 
was  inviolable,  and  his  principles  were  proof  against  any 
kind  of  direct  or  indirect  corruption ;  for  he  was-  strictly 
honourable  in  his  political  as  well  as  his  financial  dealings. 

"  His  support  of  Lord  North  in  Parliament,"  says 
Colonel  Topham,  "  was  most  disinterested,  for  no  man 
was  materially  a  greater  sufferer  than  he,  by  the  madness 
of  the  American  war  :  the  large  property  he  had  in  houses, 
and  those  chiefly  among  the  new  buildings  in  Marylebone, 
was  much  injured  by  the  continuance  of  the  war,  and  as  na 
small  proof  of  it,  he  had  just  then  supplied  the  money 
to  build  a  crescent  at  the  end  of  Quebec  Street,  Portman 
Square,  where  he  expended  certainly  not  less  than  seven  or 
eight  thousand  pounds,  and  which  from  the  want  of  inhabi- 
tants at  that  time,  was  never  finished.  It  has  since  fallen 
to  Mr.  Baker,  the  ground  landlord,  who  will  doubtless  make 
the  money  which  Mr.  Elwes  lost." 

I  think  these  few  lines  worth  quoting  from  Colonel  Top- 
ham's  most  interesting  memoir,  not  only  as  illustrative  of  the 
character  of  John  Elwes,  but  because  they  forcibly  indicate- 
the  curious  local  change  which  circumstances  have  wrought 
in  the  district  in  which  Elwes  owned  so  much  property,, 
and  his  investment  in  it  shows  him  to  have  possessed  con- 
siderable foresight  and  shrewdness. 

A  millionaire  then,  he,  or  his  representative,  would  have 


$0  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 

been  an  archi-millionaire  now.  The  idea  of  building  a 
crescent  of  mansions  on  the  spot  (not  very  accurately 
described  by  Topham)  selected  by  Elwes,  was  a  very  know- 
ing one,  and  no  doubt,  but  for  the  political  circumstances  of 
the  moment,  would  have  proved  richly  remunerative  even 
in  his  own  days,  as  the  ground-rents  on  that  land  were  at 
that  time  very  small.  Topham's  prediction  as  to  the  "  good 
thing  "  Mr.  Baker  and  his  heirs  would  make  of  it  has  been 
fully  verified.  So  far  from  being  "  never  finished,"  Great 
Cumberland  Place  was  at  the  time  I  came  into  being,  there, 
one  of  the  most  fashionable  centres  in  London ;  my  father 
bought  and  lived  for  fifty  years  in  the  first  house  overlook- 
ing Hyde  Park,  and  the  whole  became  the  town-residences 
mostly  of  people  of  rank.  The  representatives  of  the 
ground  landlord  were  at  first  Sir  Edward  Baker,  and  after- 
wards his  trustees.  The  property,  when  that  ground  lease 
expired  not  long  since,  reverted  to  the  Portinan  estate  ;  it 
is  therefore  a  few  years  more  than  a  century  since  Elwes 
started  this  clever  building-speculation  which  was  to  make 
such  a  fortune  for  aliens  to  his  family — Sic  vos  non  cobis, 
&c. !  It  must  have  been  an  irritating  disappointment  to 
the  poor  old  man  to  see  the  unfinished  carcases  (which,  on 
a  change  of  political  conditions,  he  had  prudently  abstained 
from  completing)  standing  during  the  remainder  of  his  life 
desolate  and  neglected  behind  a  bill-stuck  hoarding ;  but 
Elwes  had  considerable  philosophy,  and  although  he  would 
lament  over  a  dropped  sixpence,  he  bore  larger  losses  with 
surprising  equanimity  :  this,  however,  is  less  anomalous 
than  the  generality  of  traits  in  the  character  of  John  Elwes. 
Curious  anecdotes  illustrative  of  its  singularities  are  not 
wanting,  the  following  little  stoiy  which  I  heard  lately  is 
not,  I  believe,  in  print.  In  Maiden  Lane  lived  in  the  early 
part  of  the  century  a  watchmaker,  by  name  Ireland.  One 
morning  a  very  shabbily  dressed  old  man  entered  his  shop 
.and  asked  to  see  some  gold  watches.  Ireland  looked  at  him 
with  some  suspicion  of  his  being  either  a  rogue  or  a  lunatic, 


JOHN  ELWES'S  ECCENTRICITIES.  91 

and  put  before  him  some  second-hand  gold  and  silver 
watches,  asking  him  if  he  did  not  mean  the  latter.  "  No," 
replied  the  customer  simply;  "  no ;  I  want  the  best  watch 
you  have  in  your  shop,  a  chronometer  for  work,  and  solid 
and  handsome  in  appearance."  Having  examined  with 
some  care  one  of  those  which  the  watchmaker  assured  him 
were  of  first-class  quality,  he  selected  the  very  best,  and 
inquired  the  price.  Being  told  it  was  eightj7  guineas,  he 
asked  if  that  were  the  lowest  price.  "It  is,"  was  the 
answer,  on  which  banknotes  to  that  amount  were  laid  on 
the  counter,  and  the  purchaser  left  his  card,  desiring  the 
watchmaker  to  let  him  have  that  watch  as  soon  as  he  had 
duly  regulated  the  movement.  On  the  card  was  the  name 
of  John  Elwes. 

The  career  of  this  living  paradox,  presents,  it  will  be  seen, 
a  tissue  of  the  most  startling  contradictions,  but  it  is  by  no 
means  uninstructive,  as  showing  how  the  finest  attributes 
may  be  obscured  by  the  pervading  influence  of  one  in- 
ordinate passion,  and  in  John  Elwes  we  see  a  type  very 
much  the  reverse  of  Byron's  Corsair,  who  left  the  record  of 
a  character — 

"  Linked  with  one  virtue  and  a  thousand  crimes." 

Elwes's  aversion  to  matrimony  prevented  his  leaving  his 
wealth  to  a  legitimate  heir,  but  he  divided  all  he  could 
dispose  of  between  his  two  natural  sons,  of  whom  he  was 
very  fond,  and  who  were  estimable  men ;  the  entailed 
estates  descended  collaterally. 

Another  well-remembered   and   remarkable    character  of 

T  Tooke 

whom  I  have  heard  much  from  my  father,  as  among  the 
wits  and  celebrities  of  that  day,  was  John  Home  Tooke, 
author  of  the  Diversions  of  Purley.  They  worked  together 
at  his  E-n-ea  TrrepoeiTa,  for  both  were  scholars,  and  both  were 
philologists :  both  also  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Dr. 
Kitchiner,  frequenting  together  his  literary  and  scientific 
gatherings.  Tooke's  name  and  attributes  became  familiar 


92  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

to  me  from  the  circumstance  that  Tooke,  having  a  clear 
and  graceful,  and  also  remarkably  legible,  handwriting,  my 
father  was  wont  to  put  before  me  as  a  model,  when  learning 
to  write,  one  of  his  letters,  of  which  he  had  kept  many. 
This  one  was  an  invitation  to  a  game  of  chess,  for  both 
were  also  chess-players. 

Home  Tooke,  though  brought  up  at  Eton,  and  extremely 
cultivated,  was  not  a  man  of  birth.  So  far  from  that,  he 
was  (much  to  his  own  disgust)  the  son  of  a  poulterer  in 
Leadenhall  Market,  John  Home ;  but  he  contrived  to  keep 
this  fact  dark,  by  neatly  disguising  it  under  the  statement 
that  his  father  was  a  "  Turkey  merchant." 

The  "  Turkey  merchant "  had  turned  his  business  to 
good  account,  and  having  thereby  realized  considerable 
profits,  he  sent  his  son  to  Eton,  where,  by  his  agreeable 
and  attractive  manners  he  became  so  great  a  favourite 
that  he  had  at  his  choice  a  number  of  useful  and  influential 
acquaintances,  whom  in  after  life  he  secured  as  friends, 
As  might  be  expected,  they  were  of  higher  rank  than  his 
own,  but  school-friendships  are  often  sincere,  and  become 
proof  against  the  exclusiveness  of  conventionality. 

While  still  young,  Home  had  unreflectingly  taken  orders, 
but  soon  discovered  the  disastrous  mistake  he  had  made  in 
his  choice  of  a  profession  :  it  was  in  vain  that  he  tried  to 
wriggle  out  of  the  disadvantages  it  had  brought  him ;  they 
hampered  his  movements  and  marred  his  subsequent  pro- 
jects to  the  end  of  his  days. 

Though  gifted  with  oratorical  powers  to  an  extent  which r 
however,  he  somewhat  exaggerated  to  himself,  he  was,  to 
his  great  vexation,  by  his  clerical  antecedents,  not  only 
de-barred  from  proceeding  to  the  bar,  but  excluded  also  from 
a  parliamentary  career.*  Being,  however,  of  a  restless 

*  Lord  Holland  used  to  say  that  it  was  well  known  that  in  Mr.  Home  Tooke's- 
case  a  strange  compromise  between  principle  aud  indulgence  was  adopted  by  the 
House,  for,  notwithstanding  his  legal  disabilities,  he  was  allowed  to  sit  during  that 
session,  while  all  deacons  and  priests  but  himself  were  declared  to  be  ineligible. 


JOHN  HORNE  TOOKE.  93 

disposition,  he  was  throughout  his  life  constantly  airing 
his  political  views  with  so  little  measure  or  discretion  as 
to  be  always  getting  himself  into  awkward  predica- 
ments, only  too  glad  when  he  could  make  those  views  an 
excuse  for  public  speeches. 

In  early  life,  Home  was  tutor  to  the  son  'of  John  Elwes 
the  miser,  and  travelled  abroad  with  him.  On  his  return 
he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Tooke,  of  Purley,  and  as 
he  was  personally  extremely  agreeable,  that  gentleman  took 
a  great  fancy  to  him.  Finding  he  had  an  unusually 
accurate  knowledge  of  law  (having  studied  it  in  the  hope 
of  being  able  to  make  the  bar  his  profession),  Mr.  Tooke 
availed  himself  of  it  to  consult  him  on  the  probable  effect  of 
the  Enclosure  Bill  then  before  the  House  of  Commons, 
apprehending  that  if  passed  as  then  worded,  it  would 
materially  damage  his  Purley  property. 

After  many  conversations  on  the  subject,  John. Home, 
who  had  adopted  Mr.  Tooke's  view  of  the  matter,  wrote  an 
able  paper  in  support  of  it,  which  he  addressed  to  the 
Public  Advertiser.  While  the  Bill  was  under  debate,  Home 
attended  in  the  House  to  hear  the  discussion,  and  as  an 
appeal  was  made  to  the  writer  of  the  remarks  in  the  Public 
Advertiser  to  show  himself,  he  was  immediately  pointed  out 
in  the  gallery,  and  was  summoned  to  the  bar  of  the  House. 
Placed  there,  he  made  so  convincing  a  defence  of  the  views  he 
had  already  stated,  that  the  opposing  M.P.'s  were  astonished, 
if  not  converted,  and  the  Bill  underwent  such  modifications 
as  completely  satisfied  Mr.  Tooke.  This  gentleman  was  so 


He  observed  with  some  truth,  and  with  that  love  of  point  which  distinguished 
his  conversation,  that  "  the  candour  of  ministers  consisted  in  this,  that  deacons  and 
priests  had  sat  in  parliament  for  more  than  a  century,  but  at  last  one  cleric  got  in 
who  opposed  the  minister  of  the  day,  and  then  Parliament  determined  that  there 
never  should  be  any  deacons  or  priests  admitted  among  them  thereafter."  Home 
Tooke's  right  was  contended  for  by  Mr.  Fox,  whom,  nevertheless,  he  had,  at  various 
periods,  attacked  witli  acrimony  and  rancour.  Tooke  recognized  this  generosity. 
"Mr.  Fox,"  said  he,  "  has  taken  a  severe  revenge,  I  have  passed  my  life  in  attack- 
ing him,  and  he  has  now  for  the  second  time  defended  me  nobly  against  the  arm 
of  power." 


94  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTURY. 

delighted  with  his  brilliant  and  ingenious  defender  that  he 
at  once  declared  his  intention  of  making  him  his  heir. 

By  some  misunderstanding,  however,  Home  got  but  a 
small  portion  of  Mr.  Tooke's  fortune,  the  bulk  of  which  went 
to  Mr.  Beazley.  Still,  Home  assumed  his  patron's  name, 
and  henceforward  was  known  as  Mr.  John  Home  Tooke. 
He  both  wrote  and  spoke  well,  dividing  his  time  and  atten- 
tion between  literature  and  politics.  He  had  the  talent  to 
draw  round  him  many  of  the  celebrities  of  the  day,  welcom- 
ing them  to  his  hospitable  table  with  a  degree  of  ease  and 
grace  in  accordance  with  their  aristocratic  position.  When 
he  was  a  boy,  he  had  often  been  sent  for  to  Leicester  House 
as  a  playfellow  for  the  little  Prince  George,  afterwards 
George  III.,  but  probably  did  not  learn  much  in  the  matter 
of  good  manners,  there  :  he  possessed  a  great  deal  of  humour, 
and  many  of  his  witticisms  have  been  preserved.  During  his 
trial  for  high  treason  he  suddenly  determined  that  he  would 
speak  in  his  own  defence,  and  sent  word  to  that  effect  to 
Erskine,  his  counsel. 

"I'll  be  lianged  if  I  don't,"  said  he,  byway  of  emphasizing 
his  intention. 

"You'll  certainly  be  hanged  it  you  c7o,"  was  Erskine's 
smart  reply. 

Home  Tooke  always  professed  himself  cognizant  of  the 
identity  of  Junius.  His  newspaper  correspondence  with 
this  nominis  umbra  was  not  very  happy,  Tooke  being  far 
more  successful  in  a  viva  voce  discussion  than  when  arguing 
on  paper.  He  was  clever,  and  quick  at  repartee,  and  knew 
how  to  make  telling  remarks  with  a  smiling  face :  there 
was  much  fun  and  archness  in  his  character,  and  his 
scholarly  acquirements  gave  him  a  command  of  language 
which  served  him  advantageously  in  a  verbal  dispute.  His 
objections  to  matrimony  were  so  strong  that  he  tried  to 
inspire  his  friends  with  his  own  sentiments  on  the  subject. 
One  of  them  having  communicated  to  him  his  intention 
of  perpetrating  the  fatal  blunder  in  spite  of  his  warnings, 


JOHN  HOENE  TOOKE.  95- 

he  entreated  him  to  consider  the  advice  he  was  about  to 
offer  him.  This  consisted  in  urging  upon  him  and  upon 
every  intending  bridegroom  the  absolute  necessity  of  obtain- 
ing from  reliable  sources  every  possible  detail  of  his  intended 
wife's  antecedents,  moral,  material,  financial,  &c.,  and  then 
of  devoting  as  long  a  period  as  possible  to  the  most 
scrutinizing  personal  vigilance,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  exact 
truth  for  himself :  when  absolutely  satisfied  on  every  point, 
the  only  allowable  course  for  him  was  to  provide  himself 
with  a  fleet  horse,  to  be  ready  saddled  and  bridled  on  the 
wedding-day,  and  to  ride  away  from  the  church  as  swiftly 
as  possible  before  the  ceremony  took  place. 

Home   Tooke's   political   principles  were   those  of  what 
would  be  called  to-day  "  a  red  republican,"  in  testimony  of 
which  one  of  his  letters  to  Junius  begins  :  "  The  *  right 
divine    and    sacredness   of    kings '    is   to   me   a   senseless 
jargon." 

An  amusing  story  used  to  be  told  of  Home  Tooke,  who,, 
dining  one  day  with  Lord  Camelford  and  Sir  Francis 
Burdett,  expressed  his  regret  that  he  had,  in  his  boyhood,, 
ran  away  from  Eton,  when  Lord  Camelford  confessed  he- 
equally  repented  of  having  run  away  from  the  Charterhouse. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Sir  Francis,  "  I  may  as  well  tell  you 
that  I  ran  away  from  Westminster." 

J.  T.  Smith  *  tells  in  his  Book  for  a  Rainy  Day,  how — 
"  In  the  year  1811  a  most  flagrant  depredation  was  com- 
mitted at  Home  Tooke's  house  at  Wimbledon  by  a  collector 
of  taxes,  who,  not  receiving  immediate  payment  of  his 
demand,  daringly  earned  away  a  silver  tea  and  sugar  caddy, 
the  value,  in  weight  of  metal  alone,  amounting  to  at  least 
twenty  times  the  sum  claimed ;  the  pretext  being  the  with- 
holding of  a  tax  which  Mr.  Tooke  declared  he  would  never 
pay,  on  principle. 


'••:  Mr.  J.  T.  Smith  was  a  great  connoisseur  in  works  of  art,  and  preceded  Mr. 
Jos£  as  custodian  of  the  Print-room  at  the  British  Museum. 


•96  GOSSIP  OF  THE  CENTUEY. 

"  Upon  this,  the  victim  wrote  the  following  letter 
-addressed  to  Messrs.  Croft  and  Dilke  : — 

"  Gentlemen,  I  beg  it  as  a  favour  of  you  that  you  will  go, 
in  my  name,  to  Mr.  Judkin,  Attorney,  in  Clifford's  Inn,  and 
desire  him  to  go  with  you  both,  to  the  Under- Sheriff's  office 
in  New  Inn,  Wych  Street.  I  have  had  a  distress  served  on 
me  for  taxes  at  Wimbledon,  in  the  County  of  Surrey.  By 
the  recommendation  of  Mr.  Stuart  of  Putney,  I  desire  Mr. 
Judkin  to  act  as  my  attorney  in  replevying  the  goods,  and  I 
desire  Messrs.  Croft  and  Dilke  to  sign  the  security  bond  for 
me  that  I  will  try  this  question.  Pray  show  this  mem.  to 
Mr.  Judkin. 

"  JOHN  HORNE  TOOKE. 

"  Wimbledon,  May  17,  1811." 


As  Mr.  Croft  and  Mr.  Dilke  were  proceeding  to  Putney 
Eoad  they  met  the  (too  zealous)  tax-gatherer  with  the  tea- 
oaddy  under  his  arm,  on  his  way  back  to  restore  it  with  the 
greatest  possible  haste,  and  to  offer  an  apology  to  Mr. 
Tooke.  The  two  gentlemen  returned,  and,  going  in  with 
him,  witnessed  Mr.  Tooke' s  forbearance  and  kindness  when 
the  man  declared  he  had  a  wife  and  large  family. 

From  the  following  statement  in  the  contemporary  press, 
dated  October  4,  1810,  it  appears  that  Home  Tooke  made 
anticipatory  arrangements  for  his  funeral  and  burial:— 

"  The  vault  Mr.  Home  Tooke  has  caused  to  be  prepared 
for  his  remains  is  situated  under  the  lawn  in  his  garden 
near  the  north  wall  on  Wimbledon  Common :  it  is  now 
ready  for  his  reception.  A  handsome  tombstone  of  finely 
polished  black  marble,  about  8  ft.  long  and  2  ft.  wide,  with 
the  following  engraven  epitaph,  was  a  few  days  ago  laid 
down  by  his  own  direction  :— 


JOHN   HOENE   TOOKE.  97 

JOHN  HORNE  TOOKE, 

Late  proprietor  and  now  occupier 

of  this  spot,  was  born 

June,  1736, 

and 

Died  in 
Aged       years. 

CONTENTED  AND  GRATEFUL." 

It  has  been  asked  whether  the  "  contentment  "  refers  to 
this  world  or  the  next. 

The  Annual  Register  announces  as  a  completion  of  the 
above  story,  after  the  lapse  of  two  years  : — 

"  On  the  10th  March,  1812,  Mr.  Tooke  died  ut  his  house 
at  Wimbledon.  He  was  put  into  a  strong  elm  shell,  and  the 
coffin  was  made  from  the  heart  of  a  solid  oak,  cut  down  for 
the  purpose.  It  measured  six  feet  one  inch  in  length ;  in 
breadth  at  the  shoulders,  two  feet  two  inches ;  and  depth, 
two  feet  six  inches.  This  enormous  depth  was  absolutely 
necessary  in  consequence  of  the  contraction  [spinal  curva- 
ture ?]  of  his  body.  His  remains  were  conveyed  in  a  hearse 
and  six  to  Baling,  attended  by  three  mourning  coaches 
with  four  horses  to  each." 

Mr.  Tooke's  executors  objected  to  his  being  buried  in 
his  own  grounds,  and  the  interment  took  place  at  Baling. 

Home  Tooke's  bust  was  the  first  work  undertaken  by 
Clmutrey  after  his  return  from  Italy  in  1803. 

lu  the  year  1799  the  two  following  letters,  illustrative  of 
the  unpopularity  of  the  income  tax,  at  that  day,  passed 
between  the  Commissioners  of  Income  and  Mr.  Home 
Tooke  :  I  quote  it,  as  it  should  be  interesting  at  the  present 
time  : — 

VOL.    I.  8 


98  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTURY. 

11  To  JOHN  HOBNE  TOOKE,  ESQ., 

"  Office  of  the  Commissioners  for  carrying  into  execution  the  Act  for 
Taxing  Incomes, 

"  WANDSWOETH,  May  3,  1799. 

"  SIR, — The  Commissioners  having  under  their  considera- 
tion your  declaration  of  income,  dated  26th  February,  have 
directed  me  to  acquaint  you  that  they  hava  reason  to  appre- 
hend your  income  exceeds  ,£60  a  year.  They  therefore 
desire  that  you  will  re-consider  the  said  declaration  and 
favour  me  with  your  answer  on  or  before  Wednesday  8th,, 
inst. — Your  obedient  servant, 

"W.  B.  LUTTLY,  Clerk." 

"To  ME.  W.  B.  LUTTLY, 

"  SIB, — I  have  much  more  reason  than  the  Commissioners- 
can  have,  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  smallness  of  my  income.. 
I  have  never  in  my  life  disavowed,  or  had  occasion  to  re- 
consider, any  declaration  which  I  have  signed  with  my  name.. 
But  the  Act  of  Parliament  has  removed  all  the  decencies- 
which  used  to  prevail  between  gentlemen ;  and  has  given 
the  Commissioners  (shrouded  under  the  signature  of  their 
clerk)  a  right  by  law  to  tell  me  that  they  have  reason  to 
believe  that  I  am  a  liar.  They  have  also  a  right  to  demand 
from  me  upon  oath  the  particular  circumstances  of  my 
private  situation.  In  obedience  to  the  law  I  am  ready 
to  attend  them  upon  this  degrading  occasion  so  novel  to 
Englishmen,  and  to  give  them  every  explanation  and 
satisfaction  which  they  may  be  pleased  to  require. — I  am,. 
Sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

"  JOHN  HOENE  TOOKE." 

sir  Francis  Among  my  very  early  recollections  is  the  tall,  thin  figure 
on  horseback,  of  Sir  -Francis  Burdett,  wearing  white 
corduroys  and  top  boots  ;  his  face,  which  though  not  fleshy 
had  a  healthy  colour,  expressed  a  certain  pleasure  at  the 
respectful  recognition  of  which  he  was  constantly  the  object, 
and  seemed  to  say  that  he  felt  he  deserved  his  popularity,, 


SIR  FRANCIS   BURDETT.  99 

for   he  bowed   and   smiled  benignly  as   his   horse  ambled 


along. 


It  was  a  fine  trait  in  Sir  Francis's  character  that  he  stood 
by  his  friend  Lord  Dundonald  throughout  his  trial,  and  when 
there  was  a  talk  of  putting  him  in  the  pillory,  Sir  Francis's 
sense  of  justice  made  him  declare  that  "  if  Lord  Dundonald 
were  to  be  sent  there,  he  would  go  and  stand  by  the  side  of 
him  all  the  time." 

At   a  somewhat  later  period,  another,  usually  mounted,  Albany 
celebrityused  to  be  seen  about  the  Park— Albany  Fonblanque,  Fonblan<iue- 
the  clever  and  mordant,  but  also  popular  and  admired,  pro- 
prietor of  the  Examiner.    Having  been  personally  acquainted 
witli  him,  I  may  say  that,  although  his  sarcasm,  which  how- 
jver  was  always  just,  could  be  so  bitter  in  print,  in  private 
life,  he  was  always  the  most  agreeable  and  genial  of  men ; 
his  figure  on  horseback  was  remarkable,  inasmuch  as  his  legs 
being  lean  and  long  and  his  horse  small  in  proportion  to  his 
own  height,  his  feet  nearly  touched  the  ground.     This  was 
also  the  allure  of  the  Duke  of   Somerset,  who,  when  at  The  Duke 
Somerset  House,  Park  Lane,  was  a  frequenter  of  Hyde  Park  Somerset- 
and  its  neighbourhood.     He  died  in  1855,  and  was  fifth  from 
"proud    Duke,"  who— having  been    touched   on    the 
shoulder  by  his  wife  *  with  her  fan,  in  order  to  call  his 
attention— resenting  the  familiarity,  turned  round  and  said 
sternly,  "  Madam  !  my  first  Duchess  was  a  Percy,  and  she 
would  not  have  ventured  upon  such  a  liberty  as  that." 

A  few  doors  from  my  father's  house  in  Great  Cumberland 
Place  f  resided  Lord  Lovelace,  and  there,  died  of  a  cancer 
November  29,  1852,  his  wife,  Lady  Lovelace,  Byron's  AdaByron. 

"Ada— sole  daughter  of  my  house  and  heart." 

She  was  an  invalid  for  some  time  prior  to  her  death,  and 
seldom  left  the  house,  though  her  three  children— Lord 

:;:  Daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Winchilsea. 

1   At  Xo.  8,  not  1C,  as  stated  in  Wheatley's  new  edition  of  London. 


100  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUKY. 

Ockham,  Lord  Wentworth,  and  Lady  Anne — rode  out  daily 
on  their  ponies.  I  have  been  told  by  the  medical  man  who 
attended  Lady  Lovelace,  that  he  had  from  her  own  lips  the 
astonishing  statement  that  even  after  her  marriage,  and  up 
to  a  comparatively  late  period  of  her  short  life,  she  had  never 
read  a  line  of  her  father's  poems  !  Little  did  poor  Byron 
dream  of  such  filial  dereliction,  when  he  wrote  the  many 
tender  passages  scattered  through  his  works,  and  to  which 
he  doubtless  trusted,  to  rehabilitate  him  in  the  estimation 
of  the  child  he  loved  so  dearly  ;  for  surely  those  touching 
words,  had  they  met  her  eye,  should  have  counteracted  any 
adverse  impression  made  upon  her  infant  mind  by  his 
calumniators. 

However,  the  time  came  when,  it  appears,  she  was  spon- 
taneously moved  to  do  him  ample,  if  tardy,  justice.  Countess 
Guiccioli  relates  that  Lady  Lovelace  having  paid  a  visit  to 
Newstead  Abbey  was  conducted  by  Colonel  Wildman  to  the 
library,  where  taking  down  a  volume,  he  read  to  her  one  of 
the  finest  passages  it  contained.  Transported  with  the 
beauty  of  the  lines,  she  asked  who  was  their  author ;  the 
Colonel  stood  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  in  sudden  astonish- 
ment, and  pointing  to  Phillips's  portrait  of  Byron  which  hung 
there,  he  said  :  "Is  it  possible  you  do  not  know  that  that 
is  he?" 

Lady  Lovelace  seems  to  have  been  staggered  by  the  reve- 
lation and  replied  :  "  Do  not  think  this  is  affectation,  strange 
as  it  must  seem.  I  have  been  brought  up  in  entire  ignor- 
ance of  all  that  regards  my  father." 

"  From  that  hour,"  continues  the  narrator,  a  "  passionate 
enthusiasm  for  everything  which  recalled  the  memory 
of  Byron  took  possession  of  her,  and  whilst  at  New- 
stead  she  would  shut  herself  up  for  long  hours  in  the 
apartments  he  had  occupied,  and  which  still  retained 
much  of  the  furniture  he  had  used  both  there  and  at 
Cambridge.  She  loved  to  sleep  in  the  room  in  which  he 
had  slept ;  she  gave  herself  up  to  lonely  meditations  on  his 


BYRON'S  DAUGHTER.  101 

exiled  fate  and  premature  end,  and  endeavoured  with  intense 
yearning,  out  of  the  associations  of  scenes  over  which  his 
memory  lingered,  to  extract  some  trace  of  that  tenderness 
of  which  she  had  been  deprived."  By  one  of  those  perplex- 
ing ironies  of  fate  for  which  it  is  impossible  to  account, 
the  father  and  child,  so  cruelly  separated  in  life — for  he 
never  saw  her  after  she  was  a  month  old — now  lie  side  by 
aide,  united  in  the  silence  of  death,  in  the  chancel  of  the 
village  church  of  Hucknall  Torkard. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Byron's  daughter  died  at  the  same 
early  age  as  himself:  she  bore  but  little  physical  resem- 
blance to  her  handsome  and  distinguished  father,  though 
now  and  then  an  expression  in  her  intelligent  features 
would  betray  the  kinship.  Her  tastes  were  decidedly  dis- 
similar, and  to  romance,  poetry,  and  literature  generally, 
she  preferred  the  study  of  the  exact  sciences,  and  delighted 
in  mathematical  pursuits ;  these  she  followed  with  Babbage, 
and  must  have  been  an  accomplished  student,  whether  of 
languages  or  science,  for  she  was  familiar  enough  with  the 
idioms  of  the  former  and  the  technicalities  of  the  latter,  to 
make  an  excellent  translation  of  a  Defence,  written  by  an 
Italian,  of  Babbage's  well-known  and  long-cherished,  but 
never-completed  Calculating  Machine. 

With  striking  elegance  and  grace  of  manner,  were  com- 
bined in  Lady  Lovelace,  a  degree  of  mental  power  and  a 
depth  of  knowledge  which  few  suspected  :  though  no  woman 
could  be  more  womanly,  few  men  have  shown  more  cha- 
racter ;  frivolity  had  no  charms  for  her,  and  her  greatest 
pleasure  was  in  the  society  of  the  cultivated,  and  especially 
of  men — and  wromen — of  science. 

We  can  hardly  understand  how  the  partisans  of  Lady  Byron 
(and  she  managed  to  secure  many),  contrive  to  defend  the 
meanness,  injustice,  and  heartlessness  with  which  she  took 
advantage  of  her  opportunities,  to  alienate  her  daughter 
from  the  father  who  would  so  fondly  have  cherished  her. 
There  are  some  who,  to  justify  her  unqualifiable  conduct, 


102  GOSSIP   OF  THE   CENTUKY. 

have  invented  an  ugly  story  which  they  mysteriously  assert 
was  known  to  various  distinguished  individuals,  all  now 
numbered  among  those  who  "  tell  no  tales,"  to  the  effect 
that  Byron  had  already  contracted  a  marriage  in  Spain,  of 
which  Lady  Byron  became  aware  only  after  she  was  his 
wife,  and  that  it  was  upon  this  revelation  being  made  to  her 
that  she  had  determined  to  leave  him. 

This  statement  is  not  remarkable  for  plausibility.  Is  it 
likely  that,  if  true,  the  whole  world  would  not  have  known 
it  long  before  ?  also,  if  true,  what  need  had  Lady  Byron's 
officious  and  vulgar  American  champion  to  bring  forward 
another  mischievous  and  disgraceful  invention  in  justifica- 
tion of  her  patroness. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  what  were  Ada  Byron's 
feelings  when,  alone  with  her  gifted  father's  memory,  she 
came  upon  such  apostrophes  as  he  loved  incessantly  to 
address  to  her,  for  example  : — 

"  Albeit  my  brow  thou  never  shouldst  behold, 
My  voice  shall  with  thy  future  visions  blend, 
And  reach  into  thy  heart  when  mine  is  cold 
A  token  and  a  tone,  e'en  from  thy  father's  mould  !  " 

and  countless  others  equally  tender  and  pathetic. 

There  is  something  infinitely  touching  in  the  little  fact 
that  Byron  had  to  petition,  and  petitioned,  for  a  curl  from 
the  head  of  his  own  child,  and  having  obtained  it,  wore  it 
lovingly  round  his  neck,  where  it  was  buried  with  him. 
Contessa  ^  never  saw  the  Contessa  Guiccioli,  but  have  heard  her 

Guiccioii.  freely  spoken  of  by  several  of  my  friends  who  were  her  con- 
temporaries and  knew  her ;  as  these  were  not  mutually 
acquainted,  their  respective  testimonies  are  quite  indepen- 
dent of  each  other ;  yet  they  agreed  that  the  fascination 
exercised  over  the  noble  poet  by  this  very  remarkable  lady, 
must  have  been  due  to  some  indefinable  charm  of  manner 
which  bewitched  him,  though  it  appears  to  have  left  them 
un-impressed.  One  of  these  gentlemen  assured  me  that 


CONTESSA  GUICCIOLI.  103 

her  complexion  reminded  him  of  ...  boiled  pork  (!)  and 
another  asserted  that  her  figure  was  absolutely  shapeless  ; 
that  she  was  not  beautiful,  and  that  so  far  from  possessing 
any  grace  or  elegance  of  style  she  had  the  appearance  of  a 
short  bolster  with  a  string  round  its  middle.  Worse  than 
this,  it  seems  that  the  Guiccioli  waddled  like  a  duck ; 
her  feet,  which  were  as  large  and  flat  as  Madame  de 
StaeTs — immortalized  by  her  enemy  Napoleon,  when  he 
described  her  as  standing  on  her  "  grand  pied  de  Stael  " — 
aiding  in  the  suggestion  of  this  simile.  As  for  her  manners, 
they  were  so  far  from  refined,  that  one  of  my  friends  declared 
that  one  evening — in  company — after  dinner,  she  sent  for  her 
maid  to  unlace  her  corset,  leaning  back  in  her  fauteuil  and 
exclaiming  the  while:  "Of  Gesii  Maria  f  Ho  troppo 
fnangiato  /" 

It  is  presumable  that  Byron,  who  made  no  secret  of  his 
abhorrence  for  fat  women,  and  who  also  could  not  endure  to 
see  a  woman  eat,  must  have  been  carefully  blinded  by  the 
little  god,  unless  a  wondrous  deterioration  had  come  over 
the  Countess  before  the  time  at  which  my  friends  knew  her. 

This  lady  lived  for  some  years  in  France  near  La  Celle  St. 
Cloud,  where  she  was  acquainted  with  the  Belloc  family, 
friends  of  my  own ;  they  described  her  as  being  very  fantastic 
in  her  ways,  and  though  late  in  life  she  married  the  aged 
Marquis  de  Boissy,  she  continued  to  wear  a  large  miniature 
of  Byron  set  as  a  brooch. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  before  Byron  and  the  Contessa 
parted,  their  mutual  attachment  had  cooled  down  consider- 
ably, and  that  on  Byron's  side  his  affection  for  her  was 
succeeded  by  a  wearisome  desire  for  her  absence,  though  he 
still  wished  her  well,  and  behaved  liberally  to  her. 

It  appears,  in  the  diary  of  Thomas  Uwyns,  K.A.,  that  Lord  Byron. 
Lady  Blessington  tried  to  make  him  and  others  believe  that 
Byron's  enthusiasm  for  the  cause  of  Greece,  and  his  de- 
parture for  that  country  (December  25,  1825),  was  only  a 
pretext  the  more  plausibly  to  rid  himself  of  the  society  of 


104  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

this  lady  who  had  long  bored  him.  To  judge  from  Lord 
Byron's  sentiments  it  is  easy  to  believe  that  when  she 
became  fat  and  unsightly  his  in-fat-uation  ceased,  but  we 
are  not,  therefore,  obliged  to  admit  that  his  fine  sentiments 
and  noble  efforts  on  behalf  of  a  degraded  country,  in  the 
cause  of  which  he  sacrificed  his  life,  were  a  paltry  sham. 

I  am  told  by  Col.  Alcock  Stawell  that  when  a  young  rnanr 
making  the  grand  tour  with  his  tutor  and  spending  some 
time  at  Yenice,  he  used  to  visit  at  the  Palazzo  of  Contessa. 
Benzoni,  from  whom  he  heard  many  curious  little  character- 
istics of  Lord  Byron.  The  "  noble  poet"  used  to  frequent 
this  lady's  society,  and  delighted  in  the  familiar  intercourse 
of  the  Benzoni  family,  but  whenever  other  visitors  came  in, 
he  used  shyly  to  withdraw  into  silence,  or  retreat  to  the 
balcony,  more  especially  if  they  were  English. 

Another  of  his  habits  was  to  take  leave  at  a  special  hour,, 
at  which  his  valet  had  orders  to  arrive  with  a  small  plank 
and  a  lantern  :  the  plank  was  laid  down  at  the  water  stairs. 
of  the  palazzo  in  order  that  from  it,  his  eccentric  lordship, 
might  spring  into  the  Canal,  having  first  divested  himself 
of  his  raiment,  with  which  the  valet  had  to  meet  him  when 
he  had  swam  to  the  other  side.  It  seems  that  on  the 
Colonel's  remarking  that  Byron  must  have  needed  a  bath 
before  he  dressed  again,  the  patriotic  Contessa  did  not 
appear  pleased  at  the  imputation  on  the  purity  of  Venetian 
waters. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Byron's  club-foot  should  not  have 
interfered  with  his  expertness  as  a  swimmer.  Squire 
Waterton,  who  from  experience  of  their  successes,  believed, 
in  the  Yorkshire  bone-setters,  used  to  say  that  had  Byron 
applied  to  the  Whitworth  brothers,  he  could  certainly  have 
been  cured.  Byron,  in  his  bitter  lamentations  over  his 
physical  disability,  does  not  seem  to  have  ever  considered 
what  enormous  compensations  he  had  to  counterbalance 
this  one  defect ;  all  who  knew  him  have  borne  testimony  to 
their  preponderance.  Mrs.  Opie  speaks  of  the  "mellifluous. 


GEORGE   ROBINS.  105 


tones  of  his  voice  as  so  fascinating  that  one  cannot  help 
excusing  the  expressions  by  which  he  often  betrays  his 
vanity  in  conversation ;  its  irresistible  sweetness,"  she  says, 
"  seems  to  strike  the  ear  afresh  every  time  one  hears  it." 

Among  characters  of  his  time,  a  mention  may  fairly  be  George 
allowed  to  George  Robins — the  estate-agent,  auctioneer, 
and,  as  Byron  intimated,  "  friend  of  the  Peerage  "  generally ; 
indeed,  the  noble  lord  was  of  opinion  that  "  the  nobility 
could  not  have  got  on  without  '  George  '  to  set  their  affairs 
straight."  How  he  did  it,  those  who  had  recourse  to  his 
good  offices  knew  best ;  anyway  they  trusted  him,  and  a 
great  many  family  secrets  were,  alas  !  inevitably,  poured  into 
his  ear.  The  possession  of  these  delicate  confidences  might 
have  turned  the  brain  of  a  wiser  and  less  vain  man  than 
George  Robins ;  it  is  scarcely  surprising,  therefore,  that  he 
sometimes  forgot  himself  and  indulged  in  unseemly,  but 
inevitable,  familiarity  with  his  noble — sometimes,  it  is  to 
be  feared,  also  ig-noble — patrons. 

The  humiliation  of  being  obliged  to  "  grin  and  bear  it," 
should  have  been  a  profitable  lesson  to  those  whose  own 
follies  had  plunged  them  into  the  false  position  which, 
rendered  it  possible,  and  they  should  have  foreseen  that 
when  Ruin  stands  under  the  portico,  Dignity  has  to  sneak 
away  by  the  area-gate.  It  was  amusing  to  hear  a  man  who- 
mercilessly  clipped  the  Queen's  English  and  scattered  his 
"  h's  "  about  in  the  most  impartial  way,  talking  of  noble 
lords  without  mentioning  their  titles,  and  going  as  near  as 
he  dared  (in  a  sotto  voce  tone  which  made  his  gossip  far 
more  suggestive)  to  facts  in  no  way  creditable  to  the 
heroes  of  them,  though  it  has  never  been  said  that  he  was 
guilty  of  direct  treachery.  He  was  often  (as  a  matter 
of  expediency)  invited  to  country  seats,  and  while  tacitly 
speculating  as  to  how  he  should  deal  with  these  properties- 
ivlien  they  came  to  the  hammer,  did  his  best  to  put  himself 
on  a  footing  of  supercilious  equality  with  the  host  and  his. 
other  guests. 


106  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

Byron,  whose  sense  of  humour  was  tickled  by  Eobins's 
would-be  gentlemanly  ways,  and  his  absurd  failures  in  aping 
the  manners  of  those  among  whom  he  was  admitted,  once 
invited  to  dinner  a  party  of  intimates  of  rank  "  to  meet  Mr. 
George  Robins."  As  was  of  course  expected,  he  did  not  fail, 
albeit  quite  unconsciously,  to  make  himself  supremely 
ridiculous.  He  was  very  proud  of  having  enjoyed  the 
honour  of  dining  with  the  "  noble  poet"  whose  genius  he  had 
the  good  taste  to  admire  ;  but  there  were — and  Eobins  knew 
it — many  noble  and  many  otherwise  distinguished  men  who 
were  very  glad,  if  not  to  dine  with  him,  to  meet  each  other 
at  his  house,  and  a  very  well-appointed  house  it  was  ;  many 
of  his  guests,  though  they  had  handles  to  their  names, 
could  not  have  returned  his  hospitality  on  the  same  scale. 
Eobins's  popularity  with  his  clients  was  partly  the  result  of 
policy  on  their  part,  but  they  also  liked  him,  for  he  was 
really  a  jolly  good  fellow;  besides  this,  they  found  a  certain 
amusement  in  his  vulgarity  enhanced  as  it  was  by  his  utter 
unconsciousness  of  it. 

His  auctions  were  frequented  by  the  general  public  for 
the  sake  of  what  we  may  term  his  "  pulpit  oratory"  :  and 
men  of  his  own  calling,  it  was  said,  attended  them  in  order 
to  borrow  a  hint  from  so  successful  a  model  of  professional 
imaginativeness  and  ingenuity. 

No  one  (except,  perhaps,  Zola)  ever  drew  up  a  descrip- 
tion with  so  graphic  a  pen  as  George  Eobins.  He  was 
doubtless  acquainted  with  the  pages  as  well  as  with  the 
personality  of  Byron,  and  his  splendid  coDipilations 
would  often  show  cribbings  from  them  and  also  from 
Milton,  as  a  source  of  scenic  lore.  Nevertheless,  he  had 
originality  of  thought  as  well  as  originality  of  combina- 
tion, for  he  would  make  extremely  smart  aiid  apt  repartees 
to  those  who  chaffed  him  (for  the  fun  of  the  thing) 
during  a  sale.  The  fact  was,  that,  however  glowing  were 
his  representations  of  the  value  of  the  articles  he  was 
selling,  he  generally  managed  that  they  should  not  be 


GEORGE   ROBINS.  107 


altogether  untruthful ;  and  although  his  fantastic  imagina- 
tion was  widely  recognized,  it  was  by  no  means  uncommon 
for  purchasers  to  accept  his  descriptions  with  sufficient 
confidence  to  admit  of  their  buying  even  estates  through 
his  agency  without  so  much  as  visiting  them  to  verify  his 
account.  The  public  probably  discounted  the  exaggerations 
of  an  agent  who  was  notoriously  given  to  a  habit  of  magni- 
fying and  extolling  everything  that  was  to  come  under  his 
hammer,  from  a  tea-cup  to  a  mansion,  and  they  pretty  well 
knew  how  near  to  the  reality  came  one  of  George's  posting- 
bills  offering  to  competition  a  "well-timbered"  estate  with 
"  orchards  that  rivalled  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides  " 
("Espi-rides,"  he  pronounced  it);  streams  that  "on  horient 
pearl  and  sands  of  gold,  ran  nectar  ;  "  groves  whose  "  trees 
wept  hamber;"  views  "  enchanting  enough  to  convert  every 
be'older  into  a  landscape-painter  on  the  spot."  Such  would 
be  among  the  similes  employed  by  this  euphuistic  genius 
when  the  Duke  of  Baccarat  or  the  Marquis  of  Hard-up  was 
compelled  by  "  unforeseen  circumstances  "  to  part  with  his 
ancestral  acres. 

When  articles  of  virtu,  jewels,  pictures,  miniatures, 
engravings,  antiques,  had  to  pass  through  Eobins's  hands, 
the  assistance  was  convulsed  as  he  betrayed  the  narrow 
limits  of  his  historical,  chronological,  and  even  technical, 
knowledge. 

George  Robins  was  entrusted  with  the  disposal  of  Straw- 
berry Hill  in  April,  1842,  and  with  it  of  Horace  Walpole's 
valuable,  interesting,  and  unique  collection,  which  was  sold 
on  the  premises  along  with  the  "  furniture  and  effects."  Pro- 
bably, however,  George  advisedly  considered  that  the  associa- 
tions of  the  place  would  attract  a  larger  concourse  of  bidders 
than  a  London  auction-room,  to  which  these  gems  and  cabinet 
curiosities  might  have  been  transferred.  I  went  to  the  view 
on  the  day  previous  to  the  sale,  and,  having  a  prior  acquain- 
tance with  this  king  of  auctioneers,  was  met  by  him  in  the 
most  friendly  and  obliging  spirit.  He  immediately  busied 


108  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUKY. 

himself  with  calling  my  attention  to,  and  placing  before  mer 
the  most  remarkable  objects,  one  being  of  course  the  famous- 
silver  bell,  esteemed  by  Lord  Orford  himself,  "  the  most 
precious  rarity  he  possessed."  Designed  by  the  taste  and 
modelled  by  the  matchless  hand  of  Benvenuto  Cellini,  this- 
historical  relic,  described  by  George  Eobins  as  his  "  chaff- 
dover,"  was  originally  the  property  of  Pope  Leo  X.,  and  was- 
regarded  by  His  Holiness  as  well  as  by  the  rare  artificer's 
professional  contemporaries  as  his  chef  cTceuvre  among  his. 
works  of  that  class.  It  was  destined  to  be  employed  in  the 
exorcism  of  insects  inimical  to  agriculture,  and  was  a  most 
elaborate  specimen  of  repousse,  the  great  artist's  fancy 
having  apparently  revelled  in  the  elegant  intricacies  of  the 
entomological  detail. 

"For  this  bell,"  wrote  Horace  Walpole,  "I  gave  the 
Marquis  of  Kockingham  all  my  collection  of  Eonian  coins, 
in  large  brass  ;  the  relievos,  representing  caterpillars,  butter- 
flies, and  other  insects,  are  wonderfully  executed." 

George  Eobins  was  so  ready  in  finding  a  striking  remark 
to  make,  on  whatever  subject,  that  I  was  scarcely  surprised 
at  his  hitting  on  one  so  appropriate,  when,  placing  this 
valuable  masterpiece  in  my  hands,  he  quoted  from  the  Song 
of  Solomon  : 

"  This  belle  is  black  but  beautiful." 

And  black  it  certainly  was  ;  black  enough  to  justify  any 
superficial  observer  in  supposing  it  might  be  carved  in 
ebony,  so  deeply  tinted  was  it  with  the  antiquarian  cerugo  ; 
but  all  the  other  fine  silver  pieces  I  saw  here  were  in  a 
similar  condition.  Among  them,  another  interesting  object 
Eobins  pointed  out,  was  a  beautifully  chased  filigree  silver 
clock,  also  of  Italian  work,  of  simple  construction,  with 
weights  and  chains,  but  very  rich  in  ornamentation  and 
perforated  work.  "This,"  said  he,  "was  one  of  the  mar- 
riage hofferings  of  'Enery  the  heighth  to  'is  hill- fated  Queen, 
Hann  Boleyn." 

There  was  a  pathos  in  pursuing  one's  way  through  these 


STRAWBERRY  HILL.  109 

rooms  where  still  lingered  the  surviving  traces  of  their 
'erewhile  occupant.  If  the  choice  spirits,  so  often  collected 
here  by  the  distinguished  owner  of  the  place,  had  long  since 
vanished,  there  still  remained  the  evidences  of  their  presence 
so  that  we  might  say  with  Eogers — 

"...  Their  very  shadows  consecrate  the  ground." 

A  locality  so  surrounded  with  literary  and  artistic  memories 
as  Strawberry  Hill  could  not  be  visited,  under  any  circum- 
stances, without  a  keen  interest ;  but,  if  on  my  first  visit 
to  it  in  1842,  it  still  teemed  with  lingering  and  eloquent 
Walpolean  associations,  when  I  again  saw  it  some  forty 
years  later,  the  prestige  which  had  hallowed  the  spot  had 
completely  vanished,  and  it  was  in  vain  I  looked  round  for 
the  quaint  charm  which  had  rendered  it  so  attractive ;  one 
could  no  longer  trace,  or  even  build  up,  its  past  history  from 
the  materials  that  remained ;  the  whole  place  seemed  dis- 
enchanted, nay,  vulgarized.  The  absence  of  the  unique 
collection  which  in  1842  still  carried  on  the  memory  of  its 
historical  descendants  served  to  bring  it  down  to  the  level 
of  an  ordinary  dwelling-house ;  and  in  1880  the  obvious 
signs  of  the  everyday  life  that  had  long  been  carried  on 
there  sufficed  to  obliterate  the  poetry  of  its  original  destina- 
tion :  one  could  not  bring  oneself  to  believe  that  the  Castle 
of  Otranto  could  have  been  written  there. 

It  was  once  more  in  the  hands  of  an  auctioneer,  but  that 
auctioneer  was  not  George  Eobins  !  *  There  was  no  point  of 
resemblance  between  them,  any  more  than  between  the  past 
and  present  condition  of  the  place. 

The  architecture  exhibited  all  its  defects,  the  furniture 
was  shabby  and  common  in  quality,  and  it  was  neglected 
in  condition ;  the  galleries  and  rooms  dingy  without 
dignity,  the  draperies  faded,  yet  not  venerable,  the  blinds 
discoloured  and  tattered ;  in  place  of  the  library  and  the 
collection  which  had  been  the  admiration  of  its  day  and 

*  George  Eobins  conducted  the  sale  of  Braham's  furniture  and  effects  at  his 
beautiful  villa,  "  The  Grange,"  Brompton,  after  the  failure  of  the  Colosseum. 


110  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

the  envy  of  museums,  there  were  cheap  Tauchnitz  editions f 
ruhbishy  imitation  bric-a-brac,  and  rococo  ornaments,  the 
style  of  the  place  seemed  aimless  and  incoherent,  incoherent 
also  was  the  hideous  papering  which  here  and  there  bulged 
from  the  walls,  or  hung  listlessly  in  semi-detached  strips, 
suggesting  that  the  old  walls  disdained  the  upstart  con- 
nection. The  flooring-boards  were  rotten  in  the  better 
rooms,  and  the  stone  flags,  where  there  was  pavement,  were 
damp  in  the  basement — a  moist,  musty  effluvium  pervading 
the  whole  tenement. 

Yet  this  should  scarcely  have  been  so.  Strawberry  Hill 
had  not  undergone  a  by  any  means  ignoble  fate  in  the  hands- 
of  Frances  Lady  Waldegrave — Braham's  elder  daughter — 
who  received  there  during  her  somewhat  protracted  occupa- 
tion of  it,  many  distinguished  guests,  and  as  long  as  she  held 
it,  showed  every  respect  to  its  famed  antecedents,  by  main- 
taining both  mansion  and  grounds  in  ornamental  order.  It 
must  therefore  have  been  to  her  successors,  whoever  they 
may  have  been,  that  was  due  the  decadence  which  told  so* 
lamentably  on  the  once  honoured  residence. 

George  Robins  rented  of  me  a  house  in  Queen  Street,. 
Mayfair,  not  for  his  own  occupation,  but  to  help  a  "  widow 
lady,"  in  whom  he  was  "  hinterested,  to  earn  a  hincome  by 
re-letting  it  in  apartments."  She  had  two  children  to  bring 
up,  and  whenever,  in  the  course  of  business,  he  mentioned 
her  in  writing,  he  was  wont  to  style  her  "  the  little  strugler," 
with  one  "g." 

Like  Barnum,  George  Eobins  did  not  select  the  noblest 
tree  in  the  forest  to  clirnb,  but  he  found  one  suited  to  his 
peculiar  capacities,  and  like  that  genial  monarch  among 
humbugs,  he  got  to  the  top  of  it.  George  Eobins,  whose 
appearance  was  that  of  a  hearty,  well-to-do,  florid- 
complexioned  man  of  business,  contrived  by  the  bon- 
homie and  persuasiveness  of  his  manners  to  collect  round 
him  at  the  outset  of  his  career,  a  knot  of  patrons  who,  as. 
his  peculiar  talents  developed,  soon  began  to  increase  and 


CHARLES  BULLER.  Ill 

multiply  ;  and  as  time  went  on,  from  modest  auctions  in  his 
well-known  rooms  in  the  Great  Piazza,  Covent  Garden,  he 
came  to  be  entrusted  with  the  disposal  of  important  family 
properties  and  the  management  of  large  transactions,  and 
during  the  half  century  that  he  carried  on  business  he 
succeeded  in  realizing  something  like  ,£150,000 ;  neither  did 
he  ever  incur  the  imputation  of  unfairness  in  his  dealings. 
His  prosperity  was  uninterrupted,  and  never  suffered  a  check 
from  failures  of  others  or  bankruptcy  of  his  own. 

He  occupied  one  of  the  best  and  largest  houses  in  Brighton, 
facing  the  sea,  and  died  there  widely  regretted  on  February 
8,  1847,  leaving  a  family :  for  some  time  before  his  death  his 
health  had  not  admitted  of  his  attending  to  business. 

Of  Charles  Buller,  whom  I  had  before  known  by  sight  Charles. 

Buller. 

only,  I  made  the  acquaintance  in  1839,  in  a  singular  way, 
on  the  quay  at  Boulogne,  in  the  midst  of  one  of  the  most 
violent  storms  I  can  remember.  Our  party  had  been  waiting 
some  days  for  an  improvement  in  the  weather,  and  un- 
fortunately on  that  day  the  tempest  seemed  to  have  reached 
its  maximum  of  fury ;  the  wind  blew  a  hurricane,  the  rain 
poured  down  torrentially,  and  the  sea  ran  mountains  high. 
Unfortunately,  too,  an  urgent  letter  received  that  morning 
left  us  no  further  choice.  When  we  reached  the  quay  we  met 
all  the  intending  passengers  returning  in  a  scare,  not  one  of 
them  would  venture  it.  The  boats  in  those  days  were  barely 
seaworthy,  and  nothing  could  be  more  discouraging  than  the 
aspect  of  affairs  ;  our  position  was  a  most  perplexing  one, 
for  the  ladies  of  the  party  were  terrified.  Charles  Buller 
stood,  or  rather  tottered  (for  no  one  could  keep  a  footing),  on 
the  quay,  among  those  discussing  the  dismal  state  of  affairs  : 
lie  introduced  himself,  and  not  only  advised,  but  entreated, 
us  to  abandon  the  idea.  We  had,  however,  decided  that, 
under  the  circumstances,  we  must  go,  at  all  hazards,- and 
thanking  him  for  his  kind  interest  in  us,  as  strangers,  we 
proceeded  with  our  preparations.  Even  after  we  and  all  our 
luggage  were  on  board,  he  still  called  down  to  us  to  follow 


112  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

the  example  of  the  other  passengers,  every  one  of  whom  had 
funked.  All  this  time  the  wind  was  blowing  furiously,  and 
torrents  of  rain,  driven  by  its  violence,  were  drenching  every- 
body and  everything ;  voices  could  hardly  be  heard,  and  the 
whole  scene  was  bewildering :  we  remained  firm,  however, 
and  had  the  boat  literally  all  to  ourselves.  The  planks  were 
withdrawn,  the  bell  rang,  and  we  were  off.  Charles  Buller 
remained  watching  the  boat  as  we  moved  away,  making  signs 
of  compassion  and  adieu.  The  passage  proved  such  as  fully 
to  justify  this  gentleman's  apprehensions,  for  we  were 
mercilessly  tossed  about,  for  four  mortal  hours,  before  we 
reached  Folkestone.  Some  little  time  after,  while  at  Bruns- 
wick Terrace,  we  met  our  sagacious  friend  one  day  on  the 
Esplanade.  He  immediately  came  up  and  shook  hands, 
remarking  that  he  had  never  expected  to  see  us  again  alive, 
for  it  seems  he  had  known  more  about  that  boat  than  we, 
and  he  had  considered  it  unfit  to  weather  such  a  storm. 

After  this  we  met  frequently,  and  found  him  a  most 
agreeable  man,  full,  even  over-full,  of  fun,  never  missing  a 
pun  when  he  could  make  one  ;  and  though  he  had  a  serious 
side  to  his  character,  and  could  talk  sensibly  enough  on 
literature  as  well  as  politics,  which  latter  seemed  uppermost 
in  his  thoughts,  he  was  more  of  a  humourist  than  a  politi- 
cian, and  had  a  keen  perception  of  the  absurdities  of  life ; 
sometimes,  when  in  a  sarcastic  vein,  he  could  be  very  severe, 
but  like  Democritus,  I  think  he  preferred  laughing  at  the 
follies  he  saw,  to  mourning  over  them.  He  might  have  been 
wearisome,  but  for  the  good-nature  which  formed  the  basis 
of  his  character,  and  led  one  to  believe  that  when  he  joked 
at  the  foibles  of  others,  it  was  purely  for  the  sake  of  the 
merriment  he  tried  to  create  for  himself  and  others.  He 
died  not  many  years  after  this,  at  a  comparatively  early 
age. 

Count  Count  d'Orsay — born  with  the  century — is  probably  one 

<rorsay.         of  ^Q  best-remembered  social  celebrities  of  our  times,  and 

there  must  be  many  still  living  who  retain  a  personal  recol- 


LE   BEAU  D'OESAY. 


113 


lection  of  his  striking  appearance  as  well  as  his  romantic 
history. 

His  father,  General  d'Orsay,  was  so  handsome_  a  man 
that  he  went  by  the  name  of  "  Le  bean  d1  Or  say" ;  but 
though  the  Count,  his  son,  was  no  way  inferior  to  him  in 


this  respect,  he  was  of  an  altogether  different  type :  the 
General  was  every  inch  a  soldier — a  "  vieux  de  la  vieille" 
— and  as  such,  a  great  favourite  with  the  Emperor  Napoleon. 
Alfred  Gabriel,  Comte  d'Orsay,  was  his  second  son,  and 
from  his  birth  was  claimed  by  the  Emperor  as  his  future 
page  ;  though  he  never  attained  to  that  position,  he 

VOL.    I.  9 


114  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

always  professed,  and  perhaps  entertained,  an  affection 
for  the  Imperial  family ;  this,  however,  did  not  prevent 
him  from  taking  military  service  in  the  Royal  body-guard 
on  the  return  of  the  Bourbons  to  the  throne. 

It  was  in  1822,  when  quartered  at  Valence,  that,  re- 
newing his  acquaintance  with  Lord  and  Lady  Blessing- 
ton — at  the  suggestion  of  the  Earl  (who,  being  charmed 
with  his  society,  desired  to  have  him  for  a  travelling 
companion) — that  he  left  the  army,  although  at  that 
moment  his  regiment  was  ordered  to  Spain.  The  Count 
seems  to  have  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree,  an  irre- 
sistible power  of  fascination,  and  Lord  Blessington  who 
had  already  received  him  in  St.  James's  Square,  was 
singularly  bewitched  by  his  manners  and  conversation. 
In  order  more  effectually  to  cement  the  friendship  between 
them,  he  took  the  unfortunate  step  of  betrothing  him  to  Lady 
Harriet  Gardiner,  his  only  daughter  by  his  first  marriage, 
who,  though  then  a  mere  child,  became  the  Count's  wife  in 
1827,  when  still  only  fifteen.  His  lordship  made  a  most 
liberal  settlement,  rather  011  the  Count  than  on  his  daughter, 
the  terms  of  it  showing  his  strong  desire  for  the  marriage. 
The  measure,  however,  proved  a  most  ill-judged  one,  causing 
life-long  unhappiness  to  all  parties,  for  it  was  almost  imme- 
diately followed  by  a  separation.  As  far  as  the  bridegroom 
was  concerned,  he  obtained  considerable  pecuniary  advan- 
tages, together  with  his  liberty ;  but  he  made  a  very 
unfortunate  use  of  both. 

There  is  no  lack  of  testimony  to  his  extraordinary  personal 
perfections  and  accomplishments :  the  impression  he  pro- 
duced on  all  who  met  him — among  whom  were  many  com- 
petent judges — has  been  recorded  again  and  again  among 
the  social  memoirs  and  diaries  of  his  time.  As  for  his 
physique  and  his  social  qualifications,  Byron  called  him 
"  le  jeune  Cupidon"  and  u  Cupidon  emancipe"  and  even 
he  deferred  to  his  taste  and  judgment  in  all  matters  social. 
He  read  with  great  interest  and  admiration  a  MS.  of  the 


D'ORSAY'S  "JOURNAL."  115 

Count's,  in  which  he  had  cleverly  brought  together  his 
ideas  on  English  fashionable  life.  The  originality  of  the 
Count's  "  Journal  "  pleased  and  amused  the  noble  pqet,  who 
endorsed  the  general  opinion  as  to  the  refinement  of 
d'Orsay's  taste  and  the  keenness  of  his  intelligence,  and 
admitted  his  qualifications  as  an  arbitrator  of  etiquette  and 
a  leader  of  ton :  he  was  moreover  universally  recognized  as  a 
splendid  cavalier,  a  bold  and  expert  horseman,  and  a  fine  judge 
of  horseflesh  :  but  there  was  much  more  in  him  than  this. 

Lord  Byron,  in  a  letter  to  Lord  Blessington,  expresses 
his  unfeigned  astonishment  at  the  extraordinary  perspicacity 
manifested  by  the  Count,  then  scarcely  more  than  a  boy, 
in  these  Society  notes,  and  deplores  the  melancholy  truth- 
fulness of  his  remarks  on  high  life  in  England ;  for,  Anglo- 
inane  as  the  Count  was,  he  yet  shrewdly  detected  and 
eloquently  described  the  weak  points  of  English  society. 
His  lordship  also  comments  on  the  originality  and  freshness 
of  the  Count's  style,  the  vivacity  of  his  remarks,  and  the 
power  of  his  descriptions,  which  could  come  only  from  the 
penetration  and  the  pen  of  a  Frenchman. 

He  thinks  that,  besides  all  that  the  writer  has  discovered 
during  his  first  visit  to  London,  he  ought  to  make  himself 
acquainted  with  what  goes  on  in  a  country  house,  during 
the  hunting-season,  with  "a  select  party  of  distinguished 
guests." 

"He  ought,"  adds  Byron,  "  to  have  seen  the  gentlemen 
after  dinner  [on  the  hunting  days]  and  the  soiree  ensuing 
thereupon — and  the  women  looking  as  if  they  had  hunted, 
or  rather,  been  hunted ;  and  I  could  have  wished  '  your 
Alfred '  had  been  at  a  dinner  in  town  at  Lord  Cowper's— 
small  but  select — and  composed  of  the  most  amusing 
people:  .  ,  .  However,"  he  continues,  "the  '  Journal '  is  a 
very  formidable  production,  as  it  is !  .  .  .  I  have  read  the 
whole  with  great  attention  and  instruction— I  am  too  good 
£L  patriot  to  say,  pleasure." 

It  was  at  Florence  that  the  Blessington  party,  including 


116  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

d'Orsay,  met  Byron,  who  joined  them  in  visiting  the  fine 
old  cities  of  North  Italy ;  and  what  a  delightful  tour  it  must 
have  been !  D'Orsay  was  as  richly  gifted  in  accomplish- 
ments as  he  was  in  personal  advantages ;  it  is  therefore 
regrettable  that  a  man  so  cultivated  as  to  become  a  valued 
authority  on  matters  of  art,  should  be  remembered  chiefly 
for  his  frivolity,  foppery,  and  foolish  extravagance. 

He  was  advisedly  termed  by  common  consent,  the  "  Glass, 
of  Fashion"  as  well  as  the  "  Mould  of  Form,"  for  no  beau 
of  the  day  would  regulate  the  cut  of  his  dress  or  the  style 
of  his  equipages,  the  supplies  of  his  cellars,  the  form  of  his 
entertainments,  the  nature  of  his  collections,  the  decorations 
of  his  house,  or  indeed  any  other  detail  of  life,  by  any 
standard  but  d'Orsay 's  opinion.  In  matters  of  toilette  his- 
judgment  was  supreme  ;  but  there  were  many,  foolish 
enough  to  forget  that,  while  adopting  his  caprices,  they 
could  not  assume  along  with  them  those  personal  graces 
peculiarly  his  own,  and  which  no  absurdity  it  might  please- 
him  to  introduce,  seemed  to  disfigure. 

A  gentleman  of  the  "  butterman  "  class,  who  had  retired 
on  a  large  fortune,  desirous  of  giving  himself  a  tournure 
a  la  mode,  and  simple  enough  to  believe  that  fine  clothes- 
make  fine  gentlemen,  applied  to  d'Orsay's  tailor,  the  famous. 
Herr  Stultz,  to  dress  him  precisely  like  the  Count.  A  suit 
having  been  completed,  the  client  proceeded  to  try  it  on, 
surveying  himself  anxiously  in  a  Psyche,  and  scanning  every 
attitude  into  which  he  could  throw  his  common-place  figure. 
At  last,  utterly  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  hopeless  failure 
of  the  artist  in  broadcloth,  he  turned  to  him,  and  said,  with 
a  puzzled  air,  "  Strange,  isn't  it  ?  I  can't  understand  what 
you've  been  about,  Mr.  Stultz.  I  don't  consider  you  have- 
made  me  look  at  all  like  d'Orsay.  What  do  you  say?" 

"  Well,  sir,"  answered  the  tailor,  doing  his  best  to- 
keep  his  countenance,  "  you  see,  nature  must  do  something 
towards  it." 

D'Orsay's  figure  was  tall  and  well  proportioned,  and  com- 


D'ORSAY  AND  COLONEL   GRONOW.  117 

manded,  rather  than  attracted,  admiration ;  his  features 
were  fine  and  expressive,  and  he  was  too  well  satisfied  with 
himself  and  with  the  adulation  of  which  he  found  himself 
the  object,  not  to  be  pleased  and  good-humoured  with 
every  one.  He  thus  became  a  general  favourite,  and  know- 
ing that  whatever  his  vagaries  might  be,  they  were  sure  to 
be  widely  approved  and  servilely  copied,  he  occasionally 
indulged  in  exaggerations  which  he  must  have  very  well 
known  exceeded  the  limits  of  good  taste  :  some  said  there 
was  a  spice  of  waggery  in  this  proceeding,  and  that  he 
enjoyed  the  fun  of  seeing  how  far  he  could  exercise  his 
influence.  His  fanciful  waistcoats,  rich  in  embroidery,  soon 
became  the  point  de  mire  of  fashionable  assemblies,  and 
there  was  always  a  fierce  contest  among  the  young  cox- 
combs of  the  day  to  be  the  first  to  obtain  a  facsimile  of 
the  latest  novelty  the  Count  had  brought  out. 

Expense  could  be  no  matter  of  consideration  to  a  man 
who  had  acquired  a  habit  of  always  "deferring"  his  pay- 
ments, consequently  d'Orsay  rarely  appeared  twice  in  the 
same  attire  ;  yet  the  pattern,  the  material,  the  colours,  and 
the  cut  of  a  garment,  were  matters  of  due  reflection  to 
the  originator,  who — albeit  he  meant  to  wear  it  with  the 
most  indifferent  air — well  knew  that  all  eyes  would  be 
drawn  to  it  as  soon  as  he  should  appear ;  and  when  the  chef 
^(cuvre  was  accomplished,  it  was  always  so  brilliant  a 
success  as  to  bewitch  all  fashion. 

Colonel  Gronow,  whose  memoirs  of  the  celebrities  as  well 
as  the  fashionables  of  his  day  have  preserved  his  name  from 
oblivion,  for  of  him  it  may  be  said — 

"  S'il  n'eut  mal  parle  de  personne 
On  n'eut  jamais  parle  de  lui  " — 

was  among  the  Count's  fervent  admirers — perhaps  because 
Jui  was  himself  of  small  stature  and  insignificant  appear- 
ance. He  did  not  even  resent  the  ingenious  sobriquet 
by  which  it  pleased  d'Orsay  to  designate  him,  inverting, 


118  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

with  good-natured  impertinence,  the  two  syllables  of  his 
patronymic,  and  calling  him  "  Nogrow." 

The  gallant  Colonel,  one  day,  meeting  his  idol  displaying 
a  new  and  dazzling  caprice,  was  unable  to  retain  an  excla- 
mation of  delight  at  the  beauty  of  the  very  original  creation, 
and  even  added — 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Count,  you  really  must  give  me  that  waist- 
coat." 

"Wiz  plesure,  Nogrow,"  replied  the  Count,  with  a 
charming  French  bow  and  a  courteous  French  smile ; 
"  but  what  shall  you  do  wiz  him  ?  Ah  !  he  shall  make  you 
one  dressing-gown." 

It  is  probable  that  Gronow,  thus  brought  to  his  sensesr 
remembered  the  fable  of  the  bull  and  the  frog,  but  he  didn't 
say  so. 

Harrison  Ainsworth  had  also  (and  with  more  reason)  a 
strongly  developed  and  practical  fancy  for  modelling  his 
style  after  that  of  the  elegant  French  Count.  It  is  true  he 
was  a  fine,  well-proportioned  fellow,  and  possessed  chestnut 
curls  on  his  head,  and  hair  on  his  face  in  sufficient  abun- 
dance to  adorn  it  after  a  similar  fashion,  but  it  was  a 
mistake  all  the  same.  He  spared  no  pains  and  no  expense 
to  get  himself  taken  for  d'Orsay ;  in  the  Row,  and  passing 
rapidly  on  a  mount  of  the  same  hue,  he  actually  did  con- 
trive now  and  then  to  get  a  hesitating  recognition  from 
some  of  d'Orsay's  slighter  acquaintances  ;  and  when  wearing 
evening  dress  he  arrived,  by  careful  study,  at  the  exact 
angle  at  which  his  coat  should  be  thrown  open,  to  display  a 
gorgeous  waistcoat  en  cceur,  with  a  snowy  bediamonded 
shirt-front  beneath  it ;  but,  somehow  it  wasn't  at  all  the 
same  thing,  and  only  seemed  to  call  attention  to  the  vast 
difference  between  two  individuals  who,  nevertheless,  had 
so  much  in  common.  It  was  simply,  that  grace,  refine- 
ment, elegance,  and  cine  were  wanting  in  the  imitation. 
Here  was  the  illustration  of  another  old  fable — the  ass. 
donning  the  lion's  skin. 


D'ORSAY  AND  HIS   TAILOE.  119 

Not  that  Harrison  Aiusworth  was  by  any  means  the  only 
contemporary  who  aped  the  admired  model.  If  the  books 
of  the  gentleman  of  the  shears  who  was  honoured  with 
d'Orsay's  patronage  could  be  got  at,  what  amusing  revela- 
tions pour  servir  (as  the  French  say)  would  they  not  disclose  ! 
Herr  Stultz  made  a  wonderfully  good  thing  of  his  French 
client's  custom.  All  Fashion  rushed  to  his  show-rooms. 
Such  was  the  Count's  prestige,  that  "  Tailor  to  M.  le  Comte 
d'Orsay  "  was  a  far  more  privileged  title  than  "  Tailor  to 
His  Majesty."  It  was  said,  moreover,  that  the  client 
whose  custom  was  so  prestigious  and  so  profitable,  did 
not  disdain  to  share  its  advantages.  By  a  delicate  arrange- 
ment, each  time  the  integuments  of  this  exquisite  were 
sent  home,  he  wras  to  find  a  bank-note  of  a  certain  amount 
in  one  of  the  pockets — a  little  pocket-money,  in  fact. 
After  a  time,  however,  the  tailor  began  to  think  he  was 
paying  too  dear  for  his  whistle,  and  that  he  might,  perhaps, 
begin  to  relax  in  the  liberality  of  his  dividends ;  so  he,  one 
day,  sent  in  a  suit,  pur  et  simple,  with  nothing  but  its  own 
merits  to  recommend  it.  D'Orsay's  surprise  was  extreme 
on  discovering  this  departure  from  the  established  practice, 
on  the  regularity  of  which,  moreover,  he  altogether  relied ; 
but  he  was  equal  to  the  occasion.  Calling  his  valet,  he  told 
him  to  have  Mr.  Stultz's  parcel  returned  to  him  for  altera- 
tion, with  a  message  to  the  effect  that  "  he  had  forgotten  to 
line  the  pockets." 

McHeury,  the  Count's  bootmaker  in  Paris,  had  some 
similar  understanding  with  him,  for  the  fact  of  his  being 
employed  by  the  Count  secured  him  the  custom  of  all  the 
exquisites  of  Paris ;  still  he  made  a  claim  for  £300,  being 
the  amount  of  a  bill  that  had  been  allowed  to  run  on  for 
years,  and  the  Count  was  arrested  for  the  debt.  His 
imprisonment  was  averted  only  by  his  creditor's  consenting 
to  a  temporary  arrangement. 

D'Orsay,  in  every  sense  a  man  of  the  world,  well  knew 
how  to  maintain  the  position  he  had  acquired  in  London 


120  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

society.  If  his  foppeiy  was  the  subject  of  good-humoured 
banter  among  them,  he  was  not  on  that  account  the  less  uni- 
versally deferred  to  as  an  authority  and  arbitrator,  whose 
decision  was  law  on  many  questions  of  importance,  nor  was 
he  the  less  obsequiously  courted  and  petted.  As  for  the 
ladies,  he  perfectly  well  knew  on  what  a  social  elevation 
they  placed  him,  and  how  indefatigably  they  laboured  to 
obtain  a  recognition  from  him  in  public  places ;  and,  of 
course,  he  derived  considerable  amusement  from  these 
attentions,  so  flattering  to  his  vanity. 

One  day,  at  Ascot,  while  lounging,  in  the  intervals  of  the 
heats,  with  a  group  of  heroes  of  the  turf,  a  party  of  his 
acquaintances  among  whom  were  two  ladies,  passed  by, 
the  latter  noticing  his  presence  with  a  most  obsequious 
bow.  D'Orsay  returned  the  salute  in  his  politest  style ; 
and  those  who  observed  how  gracefully  he  lifted  his  hat, 
while  his  lips  moved  under  a  very  sweet  smile,  no  doubt 
judged  he  was  expressing  some  charming  French  compli- 
ment. They  would  probably  have  been  surprised  had  they 
known  that  what  he  really  said  was,  "  How  I  hate  zose  two 
womens  ! " 

D'Orsay  spoke  English  tolerably  well,  but  he  had  a  droll 
way  of  mixing  with  it  his  native  French ;  partly  because  in  all 
he  did  and  said  he  affected  a  style  of  his  own,  partly  because 
he  knew  that  his  oddities,  however  abnormal,  were  sure  to 
be  accepted  and  admired,  partly  because  it  was  less  trouble 
to  employ  the  word  or  phrase  that  occurred  to  him  the  most 
readily,  and  partly  from  a  sense  of  humour  which  he  largely 
possessed. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  Tamburini  riots,  some  one  having 
asked  him  what  it  was  all  about,  he  replied,  with  the  national 
shrug,  "  Ce  n'est  rien ;  C'est  Laporte  qui  voulait  shuffler ; 
Mon  Dieu  !  voila  tout !  " 

For  many  years  d'Orsay  was,  for  very  good  (or  rather 
very  bad)  reasons,  never  seen  on  a  week-day ;  but  he  made 
the  most  of  his  "  Sabbaths,"  and  took  care  to  enjoy  them 


D'ORSAY'S  WORKS   OF  ART.  121 

thoroughly,  up  to  midnight.*  Sometimes  he  would  ven- 
ture out  in  the  gloaming,  but,  as  his  creditors'  scouts  were 
always  on  the  watch,  it  was  often  a  very  "  close  shave." 
His  vanity  can  scarcely  be  ignored  but  it  was  largely 
redeemed  by  his  amenity  and  accomplishments.  An 
excellent  judge  of  music,  he  was  an  mieux  with  the  first- 
class  artistes;  and  he  and  Mario,  sharing  many  tastes, 
and  proficient  in  many  of  the  same  accomplishments,  given 
also  to  many  of  the  same  habits,  were  intimate  friends  ;  also 
was  the  Count  an  experienced  judge  of  articles  of  virtu,  and 
knew  a  good  picture  as  well  as  any  connoisseur  in  the  world ; 
moreover,  he  had  a  wonderful  eye  for  likenesses,  and  could  hit 
off  a  portrait  with  consummate  skill,  though  his  "  drawing  " 
was  sometimes  weak,  and  he  was  apt — like  Chalon,  though  not 
to  the  same  extent — to  be  careless  in  his  anatomy.  Eichard 
Lane,  K.A.,  who  was  a  great  friend  of  d'Orsay's,  used  to 
"  look  over  "  his  portraits,  and,  with  a  little  such  help,  they 
became  more  than  presentable.  Nicholson,  too,  was  an 
habitue  of  d'Orsay's  studio,  and  the  Count's  "horses"  were 
all  the  better  for  his  supervision :  I  am  speaking  of  the 
horses  he  drew,  not  of  those  which  drew  him. 

Some  of  d'Orsay's  portraits  were  excellent,  and  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  was  greatly  pleased  with  the  one — the 
last  he  ever  sat  for — that  the  Count  took  of  him.  His 
Grace  looked  at  it  criticaily  when  finished,  and  remarked, 
"  At  last  I  have  been  painted  like  a  gentleman ;  I  will  never 
sit  for  another  portrait."  Yet,  clever  as  it  may  be,  it  is  sur- 
prising the  Duke  should  have  preferred  it  to  that  splendid 
warrior-like  representation  of  him  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence. 
By  d'Orsay  himself  this  picture  was  regarded  as  his  chef- 
d'oeuvre,  and  the  Duke's  own  encomiums  on  it  seem  to 
fix  its  value ;  it  is  something  for  him  to  have  said  that 
"out  of  the  innumerable  portraits  of  him  it  is  the  one  by 
which  he  should  wish  to  be  remembered."  He  gave  the 


:::  It  must  be  remembered  this  was  before  1869. 


122  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

sittings  for  it  at  Gore  House,  going  there  in  the  morning  in 
full  dress.  Every  now  and  then  he  would  get  up  and  go 
to  the  easel,  and  if  there  was  anything  that  did  not  quite 
please  him,  he  made  no  concealment  of  his  objections.  In 
fact,  d'Orsay  found  it  very  difficult  to  satisfy  his  noble- 
model,  but  the  Duke  went  in  for  perfection  in  whatever  he 
did  himself  or  had  done  for  him  by  others,  and  wherever  it 
could  be  obtained  nothing  short  of  it  would  satisfy  him. 

It  is  strange  that  this  portrait,  when  sold  at  the  sale 
of  Lady  Blessington's  effects,  after  the  break-up  in  1849, 
fetched  only  j£190.  It  was  bought  by  the  Marquis  of 
Hertford. 

D'Orsay  published  with  Mitchell,  in  Bond  Street,  upwards 
of  120  profile  sketches  of  contemporary  celebrities,  profes- 
sional and  others,  which  had  a  rapid  and  extensive  sale  ;  in 
fact,  his  pencil  was  never  idle.  But  though  he  possessed  this 
resource,  as  well  as  annual  revenues  from  his  marriage,  and 
from  various  other  sources,  to  meet  his  expenses,  he  was  always- 
without  money,  always  deeply  in  debt.  Besides  his  talent 
as  a  painter,  d'Orsay  was  most  successful  as  a  sculptor,  and 
was,  moreover,  so  ambitious  in  his  attempts,  that  he  started 
upon  a  full-length  statue  of  Napoleon — which,  however,  was 
never  finished — and  produced  very  excellent  busts  of  Einile 
de  Grirardin,  Prince  Louis  Napoleon,  Lady  Blessington,  and 
many  others  ;  among  them,  of  his  friend  Cabarrus. 

Lord  Byron's       Among  other  subjects  of  d'Orsay's  pencil  was  Lord  Byron. 

gondolier.        gome  time  after  the  poet's  death,  the  Count's  portrait  of 

him  was  shown  to  "  Tita  "  Falcieri,  his  attached  Venetian 
gondolier,  who  accompanied  his  remains  to  England,  sleep- 
ing nightly  on  the  coffin  to  protect  it  from  any  imaginable 
injury  :  he  pronounced  the  likeness  an  accurate  one,  but 
remarked  the  hair  was  of  too  light  a  colour.  To  justify  his 
criticism,  "  Tita  "  produced  a  curl,  which  he  always  carried 
about  him,  cut  from  Byron's  head.  The  fact  being  admitted,, 
the  painter  darkened  the  tint,  and  fully  satisfied  the  faith- 
ful valet.  The  Count  gave  "Tita"  a  handsome  emerald 


D'OKSAY  AND   LADY  BLESSINGTON. 


ring,  which,  however,  proved  too  small  for  any  of  his  fingers. 
"Tita"  would  not  have  it  altered,  and  wore  it,  attached  by  a 
ribbon,  round  his  neck,  showing  it  with  great  pride.  He 
remained  in  England,  first  in  the  service  of  Lord  Brough- 
ton,  and,  after  that  nobleman's  death,  in  that  of  Isaac 
d'Israeli  (father  of  Lord  Beaconsfield)  ;  finally,  a  situation 
was  obtained  for  him  as  confidential  messenger  in  the  India 
House.  "  Tita  "  delighted  in  talking  of  his  noble  master,  Lord 
Byron,  and  in  expatiating  on  his  fine  qualities  ;  but  always 
remained  so  strictly  within  the  limits  of  a  pious  discretion,. 
that  no  prying  curiosity  was  ever  gratified  by  his  narrations. 
If  any  questions  were  asked  that  "Tita"  considered  even  to 
border  on  undue  inquisitiveness,  his  manner  immediately 
changed,  and  he  always  met  them  with  a  stolid  and  im- 
penetrable air,  and  the  conclusive  answer,  "  Me  no  under- 
stand." 

Count  d'Orsay's  first  visit  to  England  took  place  just  after 
the  coronation  of  George  IV.,  and  he  was  presented  to  His 
Majesty  on  the  occasion  of  a  great  banquet,  in  honour  of 
this  national  event,  given  to  the  King  and  the  Royal  Family 
by  the  French  Ambassador,  the  Comte  de  Guiche  (after- 
wards Due  de  Grammont),  who  was  married  to  d'Orsay's 
sister.  The  King  was  at  once  struck  with  the  handsome 
person  and  stylish  appearance  of  the  French  Count,  and 
desired  that  he  should  be  presented  to  him  ;  but,  as  I  have 
said,  he  fascinated  everybody,  and  at  once  assumed  in 
London  society  the  place  he  so  long  retained  as  the  un- 
disputed leader  of  fashion. 

Lord  Blessington  died  in  1829,  and  the  intimacy  that  had 
begun  during  his  life  continued,  somewhat  more  than 
unbroken,  between  d'Orsay  and  the  charming  widow. 
They  lived  in  Kensington  Gore,  whether  in  the  same  villa 
or  next  door  to  each  other  as  some  say,  does  not  seem  very 
material  ;  they  carried  on  jointly  a  costly  establishment, 
and  in  their  common  literary  and  artistic  salon  received 
common  friends  —  wits  and  celebrities  —  but  of  the  less 


124  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

scrupulous  sex  only,  the  irregular  position  of  the  host  and 
hostess  limiting  the  favoured  frequenters  to  men  of  fashion 
and  talent.  In  the  midst  of  this  brilliant  and  congenial 
entourage — so  agreeable  to  the  taste  and  cultivation,  not  to 
say  the  vanity,  of  a  man  who  had,  without  an  effort,  become 
popular  with  the  "  tout  Londres  "  — d'Orsay  displayed  all 
the  charms  of  a  delightful  savoir  vicre,  rendered  the  more 
facile  to  him  in  that  he  was  a  man  of  such  varied  acquisi- 
tions and  talents,  that  he  could  at  once  make  himself  at 
home  with  everybody.  The  unchecked  expenditure  and 
reckless  gambling,  which  had  become  an  incorrigible  habit 
with  the  gay,  pleasure-devoted  Count,  lasted  longer  than 
•could  have  been  expected ;  but,  if  the  bewitching  pair  pos- 
sessed the  ghost  of  a  conscience,  the  tremenda  ultrice 
spada  suspended  over  their  heads  by  the  ghost  of  a  hair 
must  have  caused  them  many  uneasy  hours.  In  due  time 
the  weapon  fell,  penetrating  the  fairy  fabric  they  had  so 
gracefully  woven  around  their  lives  ;  but  when  the  collapse 
•came  the  Count — who  had  for  years  been  practising  with 
a  smiling  countenance,  the  equivocal  art  of  eluding  his 
creditors — contrived  to  escape  to  France,  with  such  valu- 
ables as  he  could  secure  and  with  the  attendance  of  a 
single  valet. 

He  hired  in  Paris  a  large  atelier,  where  he  was  soon  sur- 
rounded with  patrons,  and  was  able  to  turn  his  knowledge 
of  both  sculpture  and  painting  to  good  account.  The  Countess 
joined  him,  but  died  somewhat  suddenly  and  mysteriously  in 
1849,  and  he  was  during  his  remaining  days  inconsolable 
for  her  loss.  There  were  rumours,  at  the  time,  that  the 
bitter  disappointment  experienced  by  Lady  Blessington  at 
the  refusal  of  Lady  Cowley  to  receive  and  countenance  her, 
occasioned  the  very  sudden  termination  of  her  life,  never 
very  clearly  accounted  for.  Napoleon  III.,  whom  he  had 
liberally  befriended  during  his  exile  in  England,  was  of  little 
use  to  him,  though  he  tried  to  place  him  in  a  position  in 
the  Government,,  which  he  soon  saw  could  not  be  insisted 


D'ORSAY'S  VERSATILE   GENIUS.  125 

on.  The  Emperor  did,  however,  appoint  him,  when  too 
late  to  be  of  any  service  to  him,  Directeur  des  Beaux 
Arts. 

D'Orsay  survived  Lady  Blessington  but  four  years,  and 
during  the  two  latter,  became  the  victim  of  a  spinal  disease, 
which  closed  his  singular  and  romantic  life,  in  1852. 

He  had,  after  Lady  Blessington's  death,  retired  to  a 
small  town,  or  rather  village,  near  St.  Grermain-en-Laye 
—  Chambotirci — where  he  designed,  and  built  in  the- 
picturesque  little  churchyard,  a  handsome  mausoleum. 
Within  was  constructed,  on  either  side  the  entrance,  a 
white  marble  sarcophagus  ;  in  one  of  these  he  had  caused 
to  be  deposited,  during  his  life,  the  remains  of  the  Countess, 
the  other  being  destined  for  his  own.  This  spot  he  con- 
stantly visited  ;  and  it  is  suggestive  to  picture  to  oneself 
this  once  admired  and  worldly  man  of  fashion  becoming  a 
hoary  philosopher,  and  calmly  contemplating  the  grave 
wherein  that  form  which  it  had  been  his  pride  to  indulge- 
and  to  adorn,  was  to  lie  mouldering  into  dust. 

That  d'Orsay's  genius  was  almost  unique  in  its  versa- 
tility, there  is  abundant  testimony  left  by  contemporary 
society,  as  well  as  by  his  sculptures  and  paintings  ;  and  his 
social  qualifications  were  admirable  scarcely  less  than  the' 
excellence  of  his  disposition.  When  a  dashing  young  officer, 
with  attractions  which  made  every  woman's  heart  beat,  he 
made  a  point,  at  the  provincial  military  balls,  of  dancing 
with  the  plainest  girls  and  those  most  neglected  by  others, 
and  throughout  his  life  one  of  his  greatest  charms  consisted 
in  this  (apparently  unstudied)  habit  of  putting  forward 
others,  seeking  out  the  neglected  and  drawing  out  of  them 
whatever  might  be  their  respective  specialities.  This, 
amiable  course  made  him  most  popular  as  a  host. 

His  mind  was  never  unemployed,  and  wherever  he  might 
be,  he  seemed  to  have  an  intuitive  capacity  for  extracting 
the  good  out  of  every  one  and  everything.  Everything  in- 
terested him,  because  he  had  the  talent  of  finding  in  it  what 


126  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

others  overlooked,  and  his  happy  turn  of  mind  made  all 
bright  to  him. 

As  regards  his  dress,  so  far  from  being  nothing  more  than 
the  vain,  frivolous  fop  he  might  have  appeared  to  a  superficial 
observer,  there  was  a  great  deal  of  humour  in  the  idea  he  so 
successfully  carried  out,  of  making  himself  the  arbiter  elegan- 
tiarum  and  the  supreme  head  of  the  fashionable  world,  and  no 
-doubt  there  was  a  degree  of  social  ambition  in  maintaining 
the  character  by  which  society  had  agreed  to  distinguish  him. 

D'Orsay's  death  was  most  edifying ;  unlike  the  Countess, 
he  had  never  denied  or  abandoned  his  religion,  and  when- 
•ever  the  subject  was  in  any  way  brought  forward  so  that 
the  expression  of  his  sentiments  was  called  for,  he  stood  up 
bravely  for  the  Catholic  Church,  of  which  he  was  a  member ; 
on  one  occasion  he  challenged  and  fought  a  young  officer 
•whom  he  heard  publicly  blaspheming  the  Virgin  Mary. 

The  Archbishop  of  Paris  not  only  visited  him  frequently 
during  his  last  illness,  but  on  one  occasion  said  to  him — 
"  C'est  plus  que  de  1'amitie  que  je  ressens  pour  vous,  c'est 
de  1' affection  "  ;  and  he  won  the  heart  of  the  old  Cure  of 
Chambourci  by  painting  for  his  church  a  Mater  dolorosa. 

Emile  de  Girardin  and  the  Vicomte  de  la  Gueroniere  wrote 
elegantly  and  highly  appreciative  notices  on  d'Orsay's  death. 

Lady  Blessington  was  not  by  any  means  a  woman  of 
Biessington.  birth,  although,  being  possessed  of  extraordinary  natice 
grace,  tact,  and  intelligence,  she  acquired  with  won- 
derful aptitude  the  manners  of  not  only  fashionable, 
but  intellectual,  society.  Her  maiden  name  was  Power. 
She  was  born  in  1789,  and  was  brought  up  in  Ireland 
in  very  necessitous  circumstances,  literally  without  any 
education;  she  had  several  sisters,  all  very  beautiful,  and 
up  to  the  age  of  fourteen  she  was  always  regarded  and 
treated  as  "  the  plain  one  of  the  family."  By  the  time  she 
was  eighteen,  however,  she  had  developed  such  marvellous 
personal  attractions,  that  Lawrence  entreated  as-  a  favour 
to  be  allowed  to  take  her  portrait.  Her  literary  capacity 


LADY  BLESSINGTON.  127 

was  most  extraordinary — they  manifest  much  imagination  ; 
and  her  thoughts,  which  she  expresses  with  graceful  ease,  are 
original  and  often  really  profound.  The  fascination  of  her 
manners  added  to  the  charms  of  her  person,  and  when  she 
bewitched  Lord  Blessington,  he  married  her  en  secondes 
noces,  taking  the  greatest  pride  in  her  beauty.  She  had 
already  been  married,  at  fifteen,  to  a  Captain  Farmer,  who 


COUNTESS  OF  BLESSINGTON. 

died  in  the  King's  Bench  in  a  drunken  orgie  ;  and  when, 
secondly,  she  married  Lord  Mountjoy,  his  income  was 
,£30,000  :  her  jointure,  after  his  death,  was  £2,000  a  year, 
and  her  literary  earnings  are  said  to  have  sometimes 
amounted  to  from  £3,000  to  £4,000  a  year;  but,  like 
d'Orsay,  her  money  seemed  to  melt  in  her  hands. 

The  Comte  de  Guiche  (afterwards  Due  de  Grammont), 


128  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

who  married  d'Orsay's  sister,  was  also  an  Adonis,  and  was- 
called  "  le  beau  de  Guiclie"  but  this  did  not  prevent  him 
from  being  also  an  homme  serieux;  he  had  the  chance  (which y 
however,  he  never  sought)  of  setting  a  fashion  in  dress. 
Having  received  a  wound  in  the  arm  in  a  duel,  he  for 
some  little  time  after  (whether  to  parade  the  circumstance, 
or  from  the  condition  of  the  limb)  appeared  with  his  coat- 
sleeve  slashed,  and  tied  at  spaces  with  ribbons  :  de  Guiche 
was  a  magnificent  man,  and  this  peculiarity  in  his  dress 
drew  attention  to  his  appearance  ;  the  innovation  not  only 
became  him,  but  the  story  it  revealed,  rendered  him  interest- 
ing to  the  beau  sexe.  The  modistes  improved  the  oppor- 
tunity, and  shortly  after,  ladies  of  fashion  came  out  with 
one  sleeve  a  la  Guiche  :  this  caprice  lasted  a  whole  season. 
The  Ordinary  Dining  in  May,  1856,  at  the  house  of  a  friend — Miss 
of  Newgate.'  ^est0n— where  Crabb  Kobinson  was  of  the  party,  I  found 
myself  seated  near  an  agreeable  gentlemanly  person,  who 
proved  to  be  the  Ordinary  of  Newgate.  His  appear- 
ance was  so  much  that  of  a  man  of  the  world,  and  his 
manner  so  dcgagc,  that  I  could  not  help  contrasting  his 
st}*le  with  his  calling  and  occupation,  and  wondering 
whether  it  was  not  advisedly  that  a  man  whose  hair  was 
curled,  whose  teeth  were  white,  whose  nails  filbert-shaped, 
and  whose  whole  toilet  soignee,  had  been  chosen  that  he 
might  exercise  at  once  a  moral  and  a  material  influence  on 
the  rough  jail-birds  whom  it  was  his  task  to  humanize. 

The  most  notorious  character  under  his  ministrations  at 

this  time  was,  however,  not  of  that  class.     He,  too,  was  a 

man  of  the  world,   though  of  a  different  world ;    still,  he 

wore  broadcloth,  and  had  been  educated,  albeit  he  proved  the 

most  heartless  and  the  most  hardened  criminal  that  ever  cost 

his  country  a  halter.     Yet  he  was  only  thirty,  this  cowardly 

wniiam          an(^-  Deliberate  murderer,  William  Palmer,  the  poisoner,  of 

Palmer.          Eugely  notoriety,  then  on  trial  at  the  Central  Criminal  Court. 

Whether  the  chaplain  did  not  know  how  to  impress  him, 

or  whether  he  was  too  hardened  to  be  impressed,  does  not 


THE   ORDINARY  OF   NEWGATE.  129 

appear ;  but  the  reverend  gentleman  told  me  he  could  do 
absolutely  nothing  with  him.  The  persevering  attempts  he 
had  made  even  to  enter  into  conversation  with  this  perverse 
malefactor  had  all  proved  abortive ;  the  prisoner  was  per- 
fectly polite,  but  also  perfectly  dogged  in  his  determination 
not  to  allow  the  ice  with  which  he  had  surrounded  himself 
to  be  broken.  His  plan  was  to  let  the  parson  have  his  say 
out,  and  then,  in  the  most  unconcerned  way,  to  begin  talk- 
ing on  some  subject  quite  foreign  to  the  circumstances,  but 
always  briefly  and  abruptly. 

One  day,  after  a  visit,  as  usual,  quite  barren  of  results, 
the  chaplain,  on  rising  to  leave,  took  from  his  pocket  a 
small  manual  of  piety  which  he  had  brought,  remarking,  as 
he  laid  it  on  the  table,  "  I  will  leave  you  this ;  perhaps  you 
may  like  to  distract  your  thoughts  by  reading." 

Palmer  immediately  took  it  up,  and  returned  it  to  him 
with  a  curt  bow,  assuring  him  he  needed  no  distraction. 
"  Besides,"  he  added  quickly,  "  I  brought  a  book,  I  brought 
a  book." 

"  And  what  may  your  book  be?"  inquired  the  chaplain 
good-humouredly,  receiving  the  dry  reply — 

"  That's  my  affair,  my  good  sir,  that's  my  affair ;  "  and 
then  to  terminate  the  interview  he  added,  "  Good  day,  sir; 
good  day." 

Apparently  a  more  resolute  and  impenetrable  felon  never 
stood  in  the  dock ;  even  the  protracted  trial,  as  it  went  on 
day  by  day,  left  him,  as  it  found  him,  unmoved :  the  able 
and  stirring  summing-up  of  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  pro- 
duced neither  a  softening  nor  a  terrorizing  effect  on  his 
vicious  mind  :  the  verdict  of  GUILTY  failed  to  elicit  from 
him  more  than  a  momentary  and  scarcely  perceptible  start, 
and  he  listened  to  the  solemn  sentence  of  death  with  the  air 
of  a  man  present  at  proceedings  which  concern  another 
person.  The  evidence  was  so  clear,  and  had  been  so  elabo- 
rately sifted,  that,  from  the  first,  it  was  obvious  there  could 
be  but  one  issue,  and  yet  the  criminal  was  never  seen  to  wince 

VOL.    I.  10 


130  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

under  it.  There  is  an  anecdote  on  record  to  the  effect  that 
the  prisoner  having  asked  if  he  might  sit  down,  and  Lord 
Campbell  having  readily  assented,  a  gentleman  who  was 
present,  afterwards  remarked — "  I  knew7  from  that  moment 
that  Lord  Campbell  meant  he  should  be  hanged."  It  is 
difficult  to  see  how  Lord  Campbell  could  "mean"  anything 
else.  The  Times  published  a  withering  leader  on  the  character 
of  this  cold-blooded,  calculating  villain,  and  the  warning  with 
which  it  wound  up  is  worth  remembering,  as  it  points  to  a 
fact  we  are  too  apt  to  disregard,  viz.,  that  murderers  are  nob 
a  class,  but  that  as  "  opportunity  makes  the  thief,"  so  a  mur- 
derer may  perfectly  well  proceed  from  any  class,  as  in  this 
case.  This  murder  was  the  climax  of  a  series  of  crimes  taking 
their  rise  in  a  habit  into  which  many  are  tempted  tinder  the 
impression  that  "it  may  be  foolish,  but  is  perfectly  harm- 
less," &c.  .  .  Palmer  had  been  leading  a  respectable  life  when 
he  took  to  betting ;  from  betting,  he  came  to  insolvency ;. 
from  insolvency  to  forgery  ;  from  forgery  to  murder ;  from 
murder  to  the  gallows.  Not  even  the  most  depraved 
fancy,"  concluded  the  writer,  "  can  elevate  William  Palmer 
into  even  a  Newgate  hero,  and  he  ends  his  pitiful  career  a 
notorious,  but  also  a  most  vulgar,  criminal." 

Some  interesting  particulars  of  this  horrid  crime,  ancl 
noteworthy  remarks  on  the  trial  of  the  murderer  occur  in 
Charles  Greville's  Diary,  2nd  Series,  p.  352,  et  seq.,  at  the 
date  of  May  18,  1856. 

sir  David  On  the  26th,  Sir  David  Salomons  (then  Lord  Mayor)  gave 

Salomons.  ft  Dinner  at  the  Mansion  House  to  Her  Majesty's  Judges, 
and  many  of  the  more  distinguished  members  of  the  Bar, 
but  ostensibly  in  honour  of  Lord  Chief  Justice  Campbell. 
The  banquet  was  spread  in  the  "Egyptian  Hall,"  and  occa- 
sioned an  amusing  remark  from  the  Lady  Mayoress  to 
myself — "  This  is  quite  a  small  party,"  she  said,  "  we  have 
only  three  hundred  to-dajT." 

*  It  is  on  these  "small "  occasions  that  the  Egyptian  Hall  at  the  Mansion  House, 
is  need. 


A  DINNER  AT   THE   MANSION  HOUSE.  131 

The  arrangements  at  the  Mansion  House  are  very 
methodical.  A  plan  of  the  table  is  placed  in  the  vestibule, 
and  as  the  guests  and  parties  of  guests  arrive,  the  Master  of 
the  Ceremonies  points  out  to  each,  on  this  map,  the  place 
he  is  to  occupy ;  husbands  taking  in  then*  wives  and  sitting 
next  them.  Though  so  numerous,  the  guests  arrived  with 
commendable  punctuality,  and  very  little  time  elapsed  before 
dinner  was  announced.  In  1856  dincrs-a-la-Russe  were  still 
in  the  future,  and  as  the  service  was  all  of  silver,  and  the 
dishes  stood  covered  on  the  tables,  the  eye  was  dazzled 
with  the  glistening  mass  of  plate ;  the  effect  being  rather 
gorgeous  than  elegant. 

While  the  guests  were  taking  their  places,  the  hall  was 
but  dimly  illumined ;  but,  grace  having  been  sung,  the  light 
was  suddenly  turned  up,  producing  a  perfect  blaze.  The 
Lord  Mayor's  Chaplain,  who  led  the  "grace,"  seemed 
somewhat  of  an  anomaly  considering  the  religion  of  the 
actual  Lord  Mayor ;  still,  of  course,  the  chaplaincy  being 
an  institution,  it  had  to  be  maintained.  Turtle-soup,  so 
iudissolubly  connected  with  civic  feasts,  necessarily  made  its 
appearance,  and  before  me,  I  observed  a  dish  of  lampreys,  a 
comestible  which  will  probably  never  fail  to  recall  the  memory 
of  the  king  who  proved  too  susceptible  of  their  attractions, 
to  say  nothing  of  earlier  and  more  classical  associations. 
That  fish  being  rarely  seen  on  private  tables,  undeterred  by 
tin.1  fatal  example,  I  did  not  hesitate  to  venture  on  a 
moderate  share  of  the  delicacy  ;  but — however  faultless  the 
ivputation  of  the  clief  who  bestowed  his  skill  on  the  dish — 
I  failed  to  understand  how  any  gourmet,  royal  or  otherwise, 
should  be  willing  to  barter  his  life  against  the  enjoyment 
to  be  found  in  this  fish. 

After  dinner,  according  to  civic  custom,  large  chased 
silver  bowls  filled  with  rosewater  were  drawn  along  the 
babies,  followed  by  the  passing  round  of  the  loving-cup, 
ind  then  came  the  toasts.  The  first,  proposed  by  the 
jord  Mayor,  was  Lord  Chief  Justice  Campbell,  whom  he 


132  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

complimented  in  a  concise  and  effective  speech  on  the 
patient  attention,  grave  deliberation,  and  ungrudging  scrutiny 
he  had  brought  to  bear  on  the  long,  intricate,  and  fatiguing 
trial  which,  after  fourteen  days'  hearing,  had  terminated  on 
the  preceding  day.* 

Lord  Campbell,  in  the  course  of  his  brief  reply,  intimated 
that  the  only  satisfaction  sought  by  a  judge  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duty,  should  be  the  approval  of  his  own  conscience 
and  that  of  all  right-minded  persons,  but  that  he  felt  highly 
gratified  by  the  graceful  terms  in  which  the  Lord  Mayor 
had  expressed  himself  as  to  the  conduct  and  result  of  the 
very  perplexing  trial  in  question.! 

The  Lord  Mayor  next  proposed  "  The  Vice-Chancellor  and 
the  Equity  Judges,"  to  which  Lord  Justice  Turner  having 


*  That  of  Palmer,  the  Hugely  poisoner. 

•f  The  Palmer  affair  was  a  trial  to  Lord  Campbell  as  well  as  to  the  wretched 
culprit,  and  he  writes  feelingly  about  it  in  his  diary : — 

"  June  28  (1856). — Since  my  last  enh-y  in  this  journal,  the  great  event  has  been 
the  trial  of  William  Palmer  at  the  Central  Criminal  Court  for  poisoning,  which 
began  May  14,  and  did  not  finish  till  Tuesday,  May  27 — the  most  memorable 
judicial  proceeding  for  the  last  fifty  years,  engaging  the  attention,  not  of  this 
•country  alone,  but  of  all  Europe. 

"  My  anxiety  and  labour  were  fearful,  but  I  have  been  rewarded  by  public  appro- 
bation. The  Court  sat  eight  hours  a  day,  and  when  I  got  home,  renouncing  all 
engagements,  I  employed  myself  till  midnight  in  revising  my  notes  and  considering 
the  evidence.  Luckily  I  had  a  Sunday  to  prepare  for  my  summing  up,  and  to  this 
I  devoted  fourteen  continuous  hours.  The  following  day,  after  reading  in  Court  ten 
hours,  I  had  got  through  only  the  proofs  for  the  prosecution. 

"  My  anxiety  was  over  on  the  last  day,  when  the  verdict  of  Guilty  wag  pro- 
nounced, and  I  had  sentenced  the  prisoner  to  die  ;  for  I  had  no  doubt  of  his  guilt, 
and  I  was  conscious  that  by  God's  assistance,  I  had  done  my  duty. 

"  Such  was  the  expressed  opinion  of  the  public  and  of  all  the  respectable  part  of 
the  press  ;  but  a  most  ruffianly  attempt  was  made  by  the  friends  of  the  prisoner  to 
abuse  me  and  to  obtain  a  pardon  or  reprieve,  on  the  ground  that  the  prisoner  had 
not  had  a  fair  trial.  Having  unbounded  funds  at  their  command,  they  corrupted 
some  disreputable  journals  to  admit  their  diatribes  against  me  ;  and  they  published 
a  most  libellous  pamphlet  under  the  title  of — '  A  Letter  from  the  Rev.  T.  Palmer, 
the  prisoner's  brother,  to  Lord  Chief  Justice  Campbell,'  in  which  the  Chief  Justice 
was  represented  as  worse  than  his  predecessor  Jefferies,  and  it  was  asserted  that 
there  had  been  no  such  trial  in  England  since  '  The  Bloody  Assize  ' ;  however,  the 
Home  Secretary  remained  firm,  and  the  law  took  its  course. 

"  The  Rev.  T.  Palmer  has  since  disclaimed  the  pamphlet,  which  is  said  to  have 
been  the  work  of  a  blackguard  attorney." 


SIR  DAVID   SALOMONS,   M.P.  133 

responded,  their  host  gave  the  health  of  Mr.  Dallas,  the 
American  Minister,  whose  absence  he  regretted,  explaining 
that  it  was  due  to  an  unexpectedly  prolonged  interview 
with  Lord  Clarendon. 

"  The  Lord  Mayor  "  was  then  proposed  by  Lord  Justice 
Jervis  in  a  speech  highly  complimentary  to  him  personally, 
and  to  his  persevering  efforts  in  behalf  of  the  privileges  of 
his  co-religionists,  wishing  him  success  in  his  intended  con- 
test for  a  seat  in  Parliament.  After  the  health  of  the  Lady 
Mayoress  had  been  drunk,  the  guests — ladies  and  gentle- 
men together — returned  to  the  drawing-room  in  which  they 
had  been  received,  dispersing  very  shortly  after. 

At  each  toast  the  toast-master,  standing  behind  the  Lord 
Mayor's  chair,  sang  out  in  a  prescribed  chant — "  Gentle- 
men— Charge  your  glasses;"  adding  in  some  cases — "A 
bumper  toast." 

Sir  David  Salomons  (as  he  afterwards  became)  was  one  of 
the  most  agreeable  of  men ;  fair  in  complexion,  and  with 
remarkably  blue  eyes,  he  had  neither  the  features  nor  any 
other  characteristics  of  a  Jew;  his  wife,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  was  as  handsome  as  she  was  amiable,  and  also 
singularly  intelligent  and  cultivated,  carried  on  her  face 
most  unmistakable  evidences  of  her  nationality.  She  was  a 
Miss  Cohen,  and  nearly  related  to  the  Kothschilds,  which 
name  she  always  pronounced  Rotli-schild,  after  the  German 
orthography.  I  saw  a  great  deal  of  them  from  my  early  child- 
hood upwards,  they  having  always  been  neighbours  of  ours. 
Their  property  in  Sussex  touched  that  of  my  father,  and 
their  towrn  residence  in  Great  Cumberland  Place  was  next 
door  but  one  to  his,  while  Sir  David's  brother  had  a  house 
in  Brunswick  Terrace,  Brighton,  two  doors  from  ours.  In 
fact,  it  was  so  near  that  when  it  was  burnt  down  by  the 
carelessness  of  workmen  who  were  decorating  it,  ours  was 
very  near  sharing  the  same  fate  ;  fortunately  the  wind 
veered  round  suddenly,  just  as  it  was  attacked,  but  the 
whole  household  turned  out  of  bed,  and  we  watched  the 


134  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

progress  of  the  fire  from  the  Esplanade,  not  without  appre- 
hension, remembering  that 

"Tua  res  agitur,  paries  cum  proximus  ardet." 

It  was  in  1859  that,  after  several  failures,  Sir  David 
succeeded  in  getting  elected  M.P.  for  Greenwich  under  the 
new  Act  for  admitting  Jews  into  Parliament,  and  he  was 
the  first  Jew  magistrate  who  ever  sat  on  the  Bench  in 
England.* 

I  very  well  remember  the  event  of  Salomons'  shrievality, 
and  also  his  mayoralty,  and  the  sensation  in  Great  Cumber- 
land Place  when  his  gorgeous  civic  carriages  were  standing 
about  there. 

It  was  a  great  vexation  to  both  himself  and  his  charming 
wife  that  they  had  no  children  to  inherit  the  name  and 
position  he  was  acquiring,  and  I  remember  also  Mrs.  Salo- 
mons saying,  with  some  regret,  as  she  alluded  to  the  impro- 
bability of  her  profiting  by  the  privilege,  that  "  any  Lady 
Mayoress  who  gave  birth  to  a  child  during  her  residence  at 
the  Mansion  House  was,  by  ancient  prescription,  presented 
by  the  City  with  a  silver  cradle." 

Hoiford  Many  among  us  must  know  Holford  House,  an  imposing 

detached  villa  or  rather  mansion,  in  Regents  Park,  "  stand- 
ing," as  George  Robins  would  have  said,  "  in  its  own  parklike 
grounds,"  &c.,  &c.  It  is  still  there,  but  under  quite  another 
name.  At  the  time  I  speak  of,  the  house  was  kept  up  at  an 
expense  in  character  with  its  magnificence,  and  the  grounds 
were  laid  out  with  taste,  and  were  always  in  excellent  order. 

It   was   occupied  by  a  Mr.  James  Holford  who  suddenly 

An  entry  in  Lord  Campbell's  diary,  under  date  Nov.  10, 1855,  is  interesting,  in 
point  of  his  foresight  as  to  what  would  follow  the  admission  of  Salomons  to 
civic  honours — a  result  which  he,  Lord  Campbell,  lived  just  long  enough  to 
•witness. 

"Dined  yesterday  (Lord  Mayor's  Day)  at  Guildhall  with  Salomons,  the  first 
Jewish  Lord  Mayor  of  London — a  very  memorable  occasion.  I  brought  in  the  Bill 
which  allowed  him  to  serve  the  office  of  Sheriff,  and  Lyndhurst  the  Bill  which 
allowed  him  to  be  Alderman  and  Lord  Mayor.  All  passed  off  so  well  that  I  make 
little  doubt  we  shall  soon  have  Jews  in  Parliament." 


HOLFORD  HOUSE.  135 


started  into  London  life,  and  after  a  time  of  no  long 
duration,  as  suddenly  disappeared.  As  he  was  possessed  of 
a  considerable  fortune,  various  on  dits  were  rife  respect- 
ing its  origin  and  though  no  one  knew  much  about  the 
matter,  the  gossips  all  agreed  that  it  had  been  made  in 
business,  though  this  was  no  business  of  theirs ;  indeed 
Mr.  Holford  had  all  the  allures  of  a  successful  business 
man ;  but,  whether  he  came  from  Manchester  or  Peters- 
burg or  from  across  the  herring-pond,  there  was  no 
doubt  about  the  fact  of  his  wealth,  which  (like  his  time, 
now  that  he  had  no  occupation)  he  seemed  puzzled  how  to 
spend.  A  man  with  money,  no  matter  where  he  may  settle 
down,  is  soon  surrounded  with  "  friends  " — Donee  felix  eris, 
multos  numerabis  amicos,  &c.,  and  Mr.  Holford  entertained 
handsomely.  He  gave  banquets  and  fetes,  for  which  his 
house,  conservatories,  and  grounds  were  well  adapted,  and 
although  he  had  neither  wife  nor  family,  often  filled  his  ball- 
room with  young  folks,  and  occasionally  gave  fancy-balls  to 
the  great  delight  of  those  invited  :  and  he  became  popular 
accordingly. 

"  Those  who  give  you  champagne  dinners 
Are  never  deemed  by  guests,  great  sinners." 

Not  that  there  was  anything  suggestive  of  the  "  sinner  "  about 
Mr.  Holford,  who  was  gentlemanly,  good-humoured,  and 
generally  agreeable,  if  without  much  conversational  power ; 
there  was,  however,  a  certain  mystery  and  a  certain  eccen- 
tricity in  his  habits.  Sometimes  he  would  disappear  for 
several  days — sometimes  for  several  weeks — never  leaving 
word  with  his  servants  as  to  whither  he  was  going,  nor  as 
to  how  long  he  should  be  absent. 

It  was  supposed  that,  having  been  long  following  the 
groove  of  an  active  life,  his  retirement  from  business  had 
brought  him  an  amount  of  leisure  which  he  did  not  know 
how  to  employ,  and  which  therefore  weighed  so  wearily  upon 
him  that  he  went  away  from  the  luxuries  which  were  new 


136  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

and  even  irksome  to  him,  and  sought  relief  in  the  tranquillity 
of  an  obscure  London  lodging — never  the  same  one — where 
he  lived  with  great  simplicity,  concealing  his  name  and 
identity,  seeking  nothing  but  perfect  freedom  and  independ- 
ence, by  shaking  off  the  cares  and  the  espionage  of  a  house- 
hold. His  tastes  not  having  been  cultivated  during  his  youth 
which  was  probably  passed  in  a  counting-house,  he  had  the 
good  sense  not  to  "  collect."  At  the  same  time  the  vast 
rooms  were  bare  of  those  accessories  by  which  one  is  apt  to 
think  one  can  form  an  opinion  of  their  owner. 

Before  it  was  occupied  by  this  liberal-handed  indi- 
vidual, Holford  House  had  been  handed  over  to  the 
upholsterers,  who  exercised  their  own  taste  and  judgment 
in  its  decorations,  fittings,  and  furniture ;  but,  while  making 
a  "  good  thing  "  of  it  for  their  own  pockets,  all  the  domestic 
improvements  then  known  were  introduced  into  it,  and, 
faute  de  mieux,  it  was  elaborately  supplied  with  gas,  and 
with  gas-fittings  of  the  costliest. 

One  night  its  owner  gave  one  of  his  splendid  entertain- 
ments, and  obtained  the  assistance  of  the  whole  Italian 
opera  troupe.  To  Puzzi  was  entrusted  the  drawing  up  of 
the  musical  programme  and  the  general  superintendence  of 
the  entertainment,  and  he  himself  was  down  for  one  of  his 
delicious  solos  on  the  French  horn ;  the  piece  selected  for  this, 
wasBalfe's  The  Light  of  Other  Days.  It  was  the  second  or 
third  performance  in  the  bill,  and  Puzzi,  wrapped  in  the 
conscientious  exercise  of  his  admired  abilities,  was  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  expressive  phrase,  sustaining  a  beautiful 
note,  with  up-raised  eyes,  the  audience,  mute  as  the  gold-fish 
in  the  fountain  which  centred  the  hall,  when  suddenly  and 
without  a  note  of  warning,  the  concert-hall  was  enveloped 
in  the  blackness  of  darkness,  not  a  ray  filtering  from  any 
source  that  could  reveal  so  much  as  how  the  astonished 
company  were  taking  the  matter ;  possibly  many  thought  it 
a  practical  joke  planned  and  arranged  by  some  wag,  for 
aught  they  knew. 


"THE   LIGHT   OF   OTHER  DAYS."  137 

After  a  minute  or  two,  however,  the  audience  having 
recovered  from  the  sudden  surprise,  a  laugh  uttered  in  one 
corner  was  soon  taken  up  by  the  rest,  and  some  one,  happily 
inspired,  called  out  for  "  The  light  of  other  days,"  and  was- 
met  by  a  round  of  applause.  The  light  of  other  days,  how- 
ever, was  far  to  seek  ;  the  house  was  ransacked  for  bougies  ; 
even  a  despised  tallow  "dip"  would  have  been  a  boon 
under  the  circumstances. 

Fortunately  some  such  appliances  ivere  at  length  dis- 
covered, and  after  an  unavoidable  delay  the  entertainment 
proceeded,  but  the  unexpected  defalcation  of  so  essential 
an  element  as  light  had  threatened  to  extinguish  the  spirits 
of  the  audience  and  to  compromise  the  success  of  the 
evening. 

No  near  relations  of  Mr.  Holford's  were  ever  spoken  of,  and 
while  he  lived,  none  that  I  can  remember  were  ever  seen  at 
Holford  House,  but,  as  usual,  where  the  carcase  is,  there  the 
vultures  are  gathered  together,  and  accordingly  no  sooner 
is  the  breath  out  of  a  rich  man's  body  than  flocks  of  claim- 
ants suddenly  appear,  no  one  knows  whence,  darkening  the- 
horizon,  and  swooping  dowrn  upon  the  plunder.  Thus,  the 
most  colossal  fortune  may  soon  be  disposed  of,  the  law  of 
course  possessing  itself  of  the  lion's  share,  the  nephews  and 
nieces  and  cousins,  &c.,  playing  into  its  hands,  in  the 
eagerness  of  each  individual  to  secure  the  largest  share  for 
himself.  What  became  of  Mr.  Holford's  possessions  I  now 
forget,  but  it  and  its  claimants  vanished  together.  The  house, 
no  longer  a  gorgeous  home  for  "pampered  menials,"  passed 
into  new  hands  and  was  appropriated  to  a  new  use,  becoming 
a  college  for  youths  of  the  Independent  sect,  probably  not 
nearly  so  independent  as  the  servants  who  had  held  their 
sway  there  under  Mr.  Holford's  tenure  :  that  had  been  only 
about  a  decade  in  duration,  so  he  did  not  get  much  enjoy- 
ment out  of  the  thousands  which  he  had  spent  his  best 

years  in  amassing and  for  whom  ?    For  rapacious  aliens> 

between  whom  and  himself  was  barely  a  tie  of  kinship,  and 


138  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

apparently  no  link  of  affection  or  sympathy  had  ever  existed 
to  bring  them  together  ! 

"  Absumet  haeres  Ccecuba  dignior 
Servata  centum  clavibus  et  mero 
*  Tinget  pavirnentum  superbum 

Pontificum  potiore  cceiiis." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Among  the  many  friends  who  have  passed  out  of  contem- 
porary life  is  the  very  agreeable  family  of  the  Delanes,  who 
lived  many  years  in  Eaton  Place  West,  and  though  the 
house  was  not  very  large,  a  handsome  dining-room  at  the 
back,  where  one  did  not  expect  to  find  a  room  of  such 
dimensions,  was  the  scene  of  many  a  delightful  convivial 
gathering  ;  Mr.  Delane  "  of  the  Times"  was  as  agreeable  as 
he  was  hospitable ;  and  Mrs.  Delane  possessed  that  art  so 
valuable  in  a  hostess,  of  knowing  how  to  seat  her  guests  so 
that  the  charm  of  congeniality  should  bring  out  the  latent 
sympathies  of  those  assembled  round  her  table. 

What  in  fact  can  be  more  tedious  than  the  time,  worse 
than  wasted  at  a  dinner-table  where  guests  having  no 
ideas,  no  proclivities,  no  tastes  in  common,  are  yet  compelled 
to  sit  near  each  other  sharing  nothing  but  their  mutual 
weariness.  There  is  no  objection  to  being  coupled  with 
those  of  opposite  opinions — opposite  even  on  all  subjects — 
for  such  discussions  as  would  necessarily  arise  are  often  most 
.amusing ;  each  is  put  on  his  mettle  and  there  is  a  certain 
pleasure  in  the  exercise  of  an  ingenuity  which  makes  each 
strive  to  find  new  arguments  in  support  of  his  own  theory 
—  always  provided  the  disputants  have  their  temper  well 
under  control,  and  agree  to  remain  within  the  limits  of  a 
forbearing  discordia  concors. 

A  Scotch  baronet  was  once  carrying  on  an  animated  dis- 
cussion, at  my  table,  with  his  next  neighbour  ;  after  listening 
for  a  moment,  I  could  not  refrain  from  remarking,  "  Why, 

Sir  H ,  I  feel  sure  I  heard  you  arguing  that  question  the 

other  way  up,  a  month  ago,  with  Col. ."  "  Of  course 


MR.   AND   MRS.   DELANE.  139 

you  did,  my  good  friend,"  was  his  reply;  "but  Col.  - 
took  the  contrary  view  to  that  which  this  lady  has  adopted ; 
if  we  always  agree  with  those  we  meet,  how  can  there  be 
any  conversation  ?  " 

I  once  heard  an  elderly  and  unconventional,  but 
apparently  sensible,  country  squire  say  to  the  lady  he  had 
taken  into  dinner,  as  soon  as  they  were  seated,  "  Now, 
Ma'am,  if  you  will  tell,  rue  what  are  your  specialities,  it  will 
save  us  both  a  great  deal  of  trouble ;  we  have  got  to  talk  to 
•each  other  for  a  couple  of  hours,  and  these  may  be  made  to 
appear  longer  or  shorter  according  as  we  establish  an  under- 
standing." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  lady,  "  it  would  be  so  difficult  for  me  to 
summarize  my  preferences  and  my  aversions,  that  the  two 
hours  would  scarcely  suffice  for  that,  and  besides,  having  had 
all  the  talk  to  myself,  I  should  certainly  be  the  loser,  for  I 
am  sure  from  your  very  original  introduction,  very  few  sub- 
jects of  conversation  would  come  amiss  to  you ;  I  am  willing 
to  chance  it." 

But  to  return  to  Eaton  Place  West,  where  the  society  was 
always  so  agreeable,  it  was  said  of  Mr.  Delane  pere,  that  if 
any  one  attemped  to  talk  shop,  and  any  question  were  asked 
or  any  remark  were  made  that  he  did  not  find  it  convenient 
to  take  up,  he  used  to  say  in  a  good-humoured  way — 

"  Oh  !  ask  my  son,  ask  my  son ; "  or  "  You  must  talk  to  my 
son  about  that." 

I  forget  how  the  two  elder  Misses  Pelane  left  the  paternal 
home,  but  the  youngest  married  Mowbray  Morris,  of  The 
Times,  and  much  "  about  town,"  and  both  he  and  she  are 
long  since  dead. 

At  their  house  it  was,  I  think,  that  I  met  and  became  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
acquainted   with   Mr.  Andrew   Spottiswoode — the   Queen's  Spottiswoode. 
printer — and  his  wife,  and  at  their  interesting  old  u  Queen- 
Anne  "    house   in   James    Street   Buckingham  Gate,  often 
enjoyed  their  Saturday  evening  glee  and  madrigal  parties ; 
juiiong  musical  connoisseurs,  these  were  frequented  by  their 


140  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

neighbours  Sir  Andrew  and  Lady  Green,  whose  niece  Miss 
Fisher  was  an  amateur  vocalist  of  great  talent.  I  remem- 
ber her  meeting  at  my  house  one  evening  Charles  Desanges, 
also  an  admired  amateur,  brother  of  the  Chevalier,  when 
they  sang  together  La  ci  darem  with  as  much  entrain  and 
ensemble  as  if  they  had  laboriously  practised  it  together, 
though  they  had  never  met  before  and  had  no  experience- 
of  each  other's  capabilities. 

The  young  Spottiswoodes  were  remarkably  agreeable, 
sensible  youths,  at  an  early  age  taking  life  au  serieux,  and 
organizing  with  intelligent  conscientiousness  and  benevolent 
forethought,  many  admirable  schemes  for  the  moral  and 
physical  welfare  of  the  men  in  their  employ,  and  the  fami- 
lies of  these  men.  They  passed  a  great  deal  of  their  time  at 
the  works  in  New  Street  Square,  and  had  a  favourite  room, 
the  oak  panelling  of  which  they  told  me  dated  from  the 
time  of  Dr.  Johnson  who  once  occupied  it,  ana  whose  old  oak 
arm-chair  (in  which  I  have  often  sat)  was  still  in  the  place 
in  which  the  Doctor  iised  it.  They  have  since,  as  is  well 
known,  made  their  mark  in  the  literary  and  scientific  annals- 
of  the  country. 

I  still  happen  to  have  a  letter  from  the  elder  brother 
addressed  to  me  at  the  time  I  was  publishing  Flemish 
Interiors  with  Longmans,  for  whom  their  firm  printed,  and 
I  subjoin  it  as  testifying  to  their  practical  and  philanthropic 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  their  men — 

"  10,  LITTLE  NEW  STREET,  GOUGH  SQUARE, 

"21  April,  1856. 

"  DEAR , — I  have  been  reading  with  great  interest  the 

sheets  of  Flemish  Interiors  as  they  pass  through  the  press, 
and  wish  very  much  to  get  some  more  information  on  the 
subject  of  the  Maison  des  Orphelins  at  Antwerp. 

"I  should  be  greatly  obliged  if  you  could  give  me  any 
further  particulars  of  it,  or  let  me  know  the  name  of  the 
Superior,  or  any  one,  I  could  write  to  on  the  subject. 


MR.  AND  MES.  ANDREW   SPOTTISWOODE.  141 

"It  is  not  as  an  institution  for  orphans  (who  have  plenty 
done  for  them),  but  for  working  boys,  that  I  want  to  know 
about  it.  If  you  have  seen  any  similar  institutions  elsewhere, 
I  should  be  very  glad  to  hear  about  them. 

"  Yours  faithfully, 

"  G.  A.  SPOTTISWOODE." 

It  was  at  one  of  M.  Garcin  de  Tassy's  agreeable  soirees  in  Professor 
Paris,  that  I  met  the  learned  and  distinguished  Professor 
Palmer  and  his  pretty  young  wife.  I  had  a  long  talk  with 
him  about  his  travels  in  the  East,  from  which  he  had  not 
long  returned.  His  first  journey  he  told  me  had  been  made 
in  1868,  when  he  led  the  Sinai  Survey  Expedition  to  Arabia 
Petrea,  the  expenses  of  which  were  defrayed  by  the  Univer- 
sity of  Cambridge,  from  a  fund  devoted  to  such  explorations ; 
I  think  Wort's  travelling- student's  fund.  He  had  been 
recently  appointed  Lord  Almoner's  professor  of  Arabic  at 
Cambridge,  he  being  a  Johnian. 

He  and  his  wife  were  staying  at  the  Hotel  Bergere,  in  a 
rather  remote  quarter  of  Paris,  but  I  saw  them  frequently, 
and  I  thought  Mrs.  Palmer  a  charming  little  woman,  and 
an  interesting  mother  of  two  beautiful  children ;  there  was, 
however,  so  little  appearance  of  a  literary  woman  about  her, 
that  I  was  thoroughly  surprised  one  day  when  her  husband 
put  into  my  hands  a  volume  of  very  creditable  poetry  pub- 
lished by  her.  She  was  in  very  delicate  health  and  died 
of  consumption  not  very  long  after,  nor  was  it  very  long 
before  the  professor  married  again,  and  became  the  father 
of  a  second  family.  He  was  sent  to  Egypt  during  the 
campaign  against  Arabi  in  1882,  and  went  full  of  spirit  and 
earnestness,  little  thinking  he  was  never  to  return  !  He 
was  accompanied  by  Lieut.  Charrington,  K.N.,  and  Captain 
Gill,  E.E.,  and  was  chosen  on  account  of  his  perfect  know- 
ledge of  the  language,  which  enabled  him,  whenever  he 
pleased,  to  disguise,  and  pass  himself  off,  as  a  native ;  he 
was  entrusted  with  a  very  large  sum  in  gold,  for  the  pur- 


142  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

chase  of  camels  to  supply  the  Indian  troops,  and  unfortu- 
nately this  fact  somehow  got  wind. 

The  officers  with  whom  he  went  were  employed  by  the 
Government  to  defend  the  Suez  Canal  against  the  Bedouin 
tribes,  whose  conduct  writh  regard  to  it,  was  more  than 
suspicious.  Their  mission  was  further  to  cut  off  telegraphic 
communication  in  Arabia,  and  with  this  object  they  started 
from  Suez,  and  proceeded  towards  Ghizeh  early  in  August 
of  that  year.  As  they  approached  this  latter  city,  they 
were  intercepted  by  emissaries  of  the  governor  of  Naklr 
whose  design  was  to  secure  the  gold  which  had  been  en- 
trusted to  the  ill-fated  Professor,  and  which  he  carried  about 
with  him.  These  miscreants  having  by  means  of  an  ambush, 
secured  the  three  Englishmen,  boldly  told  them  they  were 
going  to  put  them  to  death,  and  offered  them  the  alternative 
of  jumping  off  a  precipitous  rock  into  the  abyss  below,  or  of 
standing  there  to  be  shot. 

It  gives  one  a  cold  shudder  to  think  that  a  fellow-being 
whom  one  had  known  and  talked  with  familiarly,  was 
reserved  for  so  fearful  a  fate  ;  it  seems,  however,  that 
these  heroes,  utterly  helpless  in  the  hands  of  their  captors, 
had  the  courage  to  take  in  the  situation,  to  accept  it,  and  to 
make  a  choice ;  but  poor  Palmer,  alone,  elected  the  deadly 
leap ;  the  other  two  submitted  to  be  shot. 

It  is  but  poor  consolation  to  know  that  this  dastardly 
governor  was  subsequently  captured,  and  that  he  and  some 
half-dozen  of  his  colleagues  were  hanged. 

Professor  Palmer,  though  cut  off  thus  early  in  his  dis- 
tinguished career,  had  already  made  diligent  use  of  his 
proficiency  in  the  Oriental  languages ;  among  lighter  lite- 
rary efforts,  he  translated  into  Arabic,  Moore's  Paradise 
and  the  Peri;  but  a  very  popular,  original  work,  showing 
profound  research,  is  his  Desert  of  tlie  Exodus,  which  it 
is  impossible  to  read  without  deep  interest  and  sincere 
admiration  for  the  painstaking  and  conscientious  accuracy 
with  which  he  has  worked  out  those  familiar  and  yet 
puzzling  wanderings  of  "  forty  years." 


TEDWORTH   HOUSE.  143 

Staying  at  a  friend's  seat  in  Wilts  in  1848,  we  rode  over  Assheton 
one  day  to  Cholderton,  to  pay  a  visit  to  Assheton  Smith,  Smith- 
recognized  not  only  in  his  own  country  as  the  first  horseman 
of  his  day,  but   by  Napoleon,  as  Le  premier  chasseur  de 
V  Angleterre,  and  styled  by  the  Parisians  "  Le  grand  chasseur 
Bmit." 

Tedworth  House,  as  well  as  its  eccentric  owner,  had  a 
widespread  reputation ;  as  a  hunting  establishment  it  was 
unsurpassed  by  any  in  the  kingdom  in  the  value  of  its 
hounds  and  hunters,  and  the  admirable  arrangement  of  its 
kennels  and  stables.  Its  conservatory  and  winter  garden 
were  a  marvel  of  taste  and  magnificence,  the  former  rivalled 
that  of  Chatsworth,  being  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long  and  310 
feet  broad,  and  filled  with  the  choicest  exotics ;  it  ad- 
joined the  house  and  gave  entrance  to  a  serpentine  gallery 
965  feet  long,  laid  out  with  flower  borders  on  either  side  of 
a  fine  gravel  walk,  and  adorned  with  statues  and  fountains  ; 
the  whole  under  glass,  and  warmed  throughout.  The 
existence  of  these  elegant  and  costly  adjuncts  was  due  to 
the  Squire's  devotedness  to  field  sports  and,  I  may  add,  to 
his  affection  for  his  wife.  "  Le  grand  Smit "  was  a  chasseur 
by  very  nature  ;  the  chase,  without  which  he  could  not  exist, 
was  his  passion  from  infancy  to  age,  though  it  must  not  be 
supposed  that  he  overlooked  that  mental  culture  which  makes 
a  man  a  gentleman  :  he  admitted,  it  is  true,  that  during  the 
eleven  years,  from  seven  to  eighteen,  that  he  spent  at  Eton, 
he  "learnt  nothing,"  but  there  is  nothing  very  unusual  in 
that,  but  he  must  (as  George  Eliot  said  of  one  of  her  heroes) 
have  been  "makin'  o'  himsel'  a'  the  time,"  and  he  further 
compensated  for  lost  years  when  he  went  to  Oxford,  for  he  was 
known  there  as  a  sound  scholar  and  a  most  intelligent  appre- 
ciator  of  the  classics  ;  in  the  management  of  his  land,  and  in 
the  arrangement  of  his  kennels,  he  even  made  practical  use 
of  his  familiarity  with  the  Georgics,  His  passion  for  sport 
attached  him  so  inseparably  to  Tedworth,  that  on  his 
wife's  falling  into  delicate  health,  and  being  ordered  to 


144  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

Madeira,  finding  it  impossible  to  tear  himself  away  from 
the  pleasures  and  occupations  of  the  chase,  he  bethought 
him  of  a  plan  which  should  obviate  the  necessity  for  foreign 
travel.  He  said,  "  As  Mrs.  Smith  could  not  go  to  Madeira, 
he  would  bring  Madeira  to  her,"  and  indeed,  by  this  in- 
genious and  costly  arrangement  she  could  take  outdoor 
exercise  throughout  the  winter  without  exposure.  Another 
clever  contrivance  was  introduced  at  Tedworth  House,  at 
Vaenol,  and  also  at  his  London  residence  in  Hyde  Park 
Gardens,  whereby,  on  the  same  principle  as  that  employed 
with  the  trucks  at  his  slate  quarries  at  Lanberris,  a  minia- 
ture railway  communication  was  established  between  the 
kitchen  and  dining-room,  wThich  worked  with  great  perfec- 
tion, and  was  found  most  convenient  in  all  ways.  Pos- 
sessing the  good  sense  to  object  to  stairs,  he  had  an 
ascending  room,  or  lift,  constructed  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
veying him  to  the  rooms  above  the  ground  floor;  this 
contrivance  had  the  merit  of  originality,  and  anticipated 
the  system  now  comparatively  common,  though  not  yet 
adopted,  in  private  dwellings. 

Mrs.  Smith  was  a  very  charming  person,  and  the  pair 
lived  in  the  utmost  harmony,  even  though  she  could  not 
share  in  the  ruling  passion  of  her  husband's  life ;  perhaps 
this  circumstance  may  have  contributed  to  the  pleasure  with 
which  they  met  when  sport  was  over,  as  there  was  always  a 
pleasing  variety  to  look  forward  to,  in  his  day's  interests. 

Though  my  visit  to  this  unique  house  occurred  so  many 
years  ago,  I  still  retain  a  vivid  and  delightful  recollection  of 
that  agreeable  afternoon,  and  of  the  hospitable  and  thought- 
ful attentions  of  its  very  remarkable  owner  and  his  bright 
and  amiable  wife. 

The  Squire's  own  well-considered  arrangements  to  secure 
the  best  possible  conditions  for  his  hunters  and  his  hounds, 
resulted  in  a  system  so  excellent  that  after  the  re-building  of 
Tedworth,  sportsmen  used  to  come  from  all  parts  of  England 
and  also  from  abroad,  to  admire  and  to  study  his  plans. 


ASSHETON  SMITH.  145 


Connoisseurs  were  delighted,  and  even  amateurs  could  not 
fail  to  be  struck  with  the  finish  of  every  detail  and  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  whole.  There  was  an  air  of  order,  spacious- 
ness, and  comfort,  whether  about  the  stables  or  the  kennels, 
and  every  need  that  could  be  imagined  was  provided  for,  the 
drainage  and  ventilation  being  perfect.  Having  discovered 
that  something  went  wrong  with  the  hounds  in  the  original 
kennels,  Mr.  Smith  carefully  sought  out  the  cause  of  their 
frequent  lameness,  and  feeling  convinced  that  the  site  of  the 
building  was  in  fault,  he  at  once  decided  to  remove  them  to 
a  spot  which  the  subsequently-improved  condition  of  its 
occupants  showed  to  have  been  most  judiciously  selected. 

Assheton  Smith  was  a  thoroughly  practical  man  ;  instead 
of  sending  for  a  master  builder,  he  (as  he  was  fond  of  telling) 
drew  out  his  own  plan  on  a  simple  sheet  of  letter-paper, 
showed  it  to  his  carpenter  and  mason  and  set  them  to  work 
under  his  own  supervision,  and  within  the  buildings  thus 
raised,  were  reared  and  trained  a  succession  of  the  finest 
packs  in  England.  No  system  of  drainage  could  be  simpler, 
less  costly,  or  more  successful  than  that  imagined  by  Mr. 
Smith,  who  boldly  did  away  with  all  underground  drains  so 
that  dampness  was  unknown  in  these  kennels,  and  the 
yards  being  laid  with  chalk  or  clay,  tightly  pressed,  the 
health  of  the  pack  became  most  satisfactory.  The  hunts- 
man's house  formed  part  of  the  building  and  on  one  side  of 
it,  was  a  nursery  for  young  hounds.  In  the  middle  of  one 
side  of  the  high  masonry,  which  enclosed  their  turfed  play- 
ground, was  a  sheltered  platform  whence  visitors,  who  were 
admitted  from  the  outer  side,  could  overlook  the  squire's 
pets.  The  old  sportsman's  justifiable  pride  in  this  com- 
munity of  his  own  creation,  so  well  and  so  successfully 
oared  for,  was  delightful  to  see. 

It  was  not  my  lot  to  witness  one  of  those  famous  autumn 
morning's  gatherings  at  Tedworth,  or  with  the  great  Nimrod 
and  his  party,  to 

"  Join  the  gay  throng  that  goes  laughing  alonj,' ;  " 
VOL.    I.  11 


146  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

but  I  have  been  told  it  was  a  goodly  sight  to  see  the  Squire- 
in  pink,  mounted  on  one  of  his  favourite  hunters,  surrounded 
by  the  guests  he  knew  so  well  how  to  se-lect  and  to  col-lect 
under  his  hospitable  roof — a  collection  which  included  as 
many  beautiful  women  as  spirited  sportsmen  :  a  bright  sky 
above,  a  bracing  atmosphere  around,  and  a  splendid  day 
before  them. 

As  may  be  supposed,  besides  all  the  county  families  for 
miles  around,  Assheton  Smith,  who  enjoyed  the  acquaint- 
ance of  most  contemporaries  of  celebrity,  often  found  them 
also  his  guests.  Among  these  he  maintained  a  privileged 
intimacy  with  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  who  may  be  said  to 
have  been  a  warm  personal  friend  and  frequent  visitor  at 
Tedworth.  The  Duke,  who  wras  never  slow  to  recognize  fine 
qualities  in  any  one,  readily  discerned,  and  heartily  appre- 
ciated the  frank,  cordial,  and  honest  nature  of  the  Squire,, 
and  seemed  to  think  it  much  to  be  deplored  that  he  should 
not  have  turned  his  valuable  aptitudes  to  account  as  a 
cavalry-officer,  in  which  capacity  he  considered  he  would 
soon  have  outshone  every  rival.  The  two  constantly 
visited  each  other  at  Tedworth  and  Strathfieldsaye,  for 
the  Duke  delighted  in  these  hunting-parties  and  admired 
beyond  everything  the  daring  and  faultless  horsemanship 
of  the  finished  sportsman,  wdthout  rival  not  only  in  the 
saddle,  but  in  whatever  it  pleased  him  to  undertake. 

A  report  having,  for  the  second  time,  got  about  that 
"  Tom  Smith,"  as  he  was  styled  in  the  sporting  world,  was 
dead,  the  Duke,  then  at  Apsley  House,  at  once  sent  off  the 
Marquis  of  Douro  from  Strathfieldsaye  to  Tedworth  to  learn 
the  truth,  and  finding  the  report  an  altogether  false  one,  he 
wrote  him  a  humorous  note. 

"  MY  DEAE  SMITH, — They  have  killed  you  again  !  But  I 
have  been  happy  to  learn  the  report  is  without  foundation. 

"  They  treat  you  in  this  respect  as  they  treat  me  ;  I  con- 
clude it  is  in  your  capacity  of  F.  M.  of  Fox  hunting. — Ever 
yours  most  sincerely,  "WELLINGTON." 


HIS  SOUND  IDEAS  ON  PUBLIC  EDUCATION. 


147 


Assheton  Smith  entertained  the  most  just,  liberal,'  and 
rational  ideas  on  education ;  and  the  moral  welfare  of  the 
vast  population  of  men,  women,  and  children  in  his  employ 
was  matter  of  serious  reflection  and  practical  consideration 
with  him.  His  principle  of  education  was  to  fit  a  child  for 
whatever  position  he  was  ultimately  to  fill,  and  he  made  it 


A  HERO  OF  THE  CHASE. 

the  first  point  to  teach  the  children  of  his  labourers  their 
duty  to  God  and  to  man,*  adding  sufficient  instruction  to 

;;:  Where  can  we  find  a  finer  code  of  morality,  or  a  more  practical  rule  of  life, 
than  in  those  two  admirable  items  of  the  Protestant  Church-catechism — "  My 
duty  towards  God  "  and  "  My  duty  towards  iny  neighbour."  Plain,  comprehensible 


148  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

enable  then  to  efficiently  discharge  both  these  duties.  He 
considered  the  education  which,  even  then,  a  short-sighted 
policy  was  blindly  endeavouring  to  force  on  the  working 
classes,  as  tending  to  produce  serious  and  irreparable  mis- 
chief; the  cramming,  itself,  he  regarded  as  prejudicial  to 
physical  growth  and  health  ;  and  the  superfluous  knowledge 
(if  it  could  be  got  into  them),  he  urged,  could  not  fail  to 
fill  the  minds  of  the  recipients  with  ideas  unsuited  to 
their  situation  in  life  and  to  render  them  discontented, 
envious,  and  perhaps  dishonest.  The  education  that  he  pro- 
vided, and  at  his  own  expense,  was  judicious,  compendious, 
and  useful. 

His  manners  were  delightful ;  free,  frank,  and  hearty ;  you 
saw  at  once  that  he  was  a  brave  man  and  an  enthusiastic 
one ;  he  was  fortunate  in  having  no  cares,  and  his  life 
brought  him  few  trials ;  but,  if  like  Madam  Dido,  he 
learnt  miseris  succurrere,  it  was  without  having  experienced 
the  troubles  he  was  always  ready  to  relieve.  His  tenants, 
his  servants,  and  his  friends  were  fond  of  him,  though  impe- 
tuous and,  from  boyhood  upwards,  even  pugnacious — noto- 
riously so.  Assheton  Smith,  nevertheless,  however  hot- 
tempered,  had  great  patience  and  forbearance  with  anirna]s, 
and  was  curiously  successful  in  cultivating  their  intelligence. 
It  was  said  he  loved  his  hounds  as  if  they  were  his  children, 
and  knew  each  one  not  only  by  his  face,  but  by  his  voice. 
In  most  of  them  he  had  entire  confidence,  and  would  back 
their  capabilities  against  any  odds :  hounds  and  horses 
returned  his  affection,  and  would  obey  his  commands  at  a 
word.  He  used  to  assert  that  horses  were  more  intelligent 
than  dogs;  he  could  do  anything  he  pleased  with  his,  and 
they  understood  him  so  well  that  they  would  forestall  his 
orders  as  if  knowing  exactly  what  he  wanted. 

and  comprehensive,  if  these  were  made  the  basis  of  public  education  (and  of 
family-prayers)  we  should  have  a  population  of  an  altogether  different  stamp  from 
the  ignorant,  useless,  insubordinate,  aud  dishonest  million  now  turned  loose  upon 
the  world  without  any  real  knowledge  by  which  to  earn  their  bread,  and  without 
any  principles  to  guide  them. 


HIS  HUNTEES  AND  KENNELS.  149 

Among  a  vast  number  of  amusing  anecdotes  that  have 
been  collected  about  this  Monarch  of  the  Field,  is  one 
showing  that  the  "knack  he  had  of  getting  across  water" 
was  attributable  to  his  resolute  way  of  riding  to  hounds, 
by  which  he  had  made  his  horses  feel  that  it  was  in  vain 
to  refuse  whatever  he  might  put  them  at.  It  is  related 
of  him  that  "  once,  when  hunting  in  the  Harborough 
country,  he  was  galloping  at  three  parts  speed  down  one 
of  the  largest  grass  fields  which  abound  in  that  district, 
in  the  act  of  bringing  his  hounds  to  a  scent,  and  was 
looking  back  to  see  if  they  were  coming,  when,  in  the 
middle  of  the  line  he  was  following,  he  came  upon  a  pool 
of  water  into  which  the  animal  leaped,  thinking,  as  he  had 
received  no  check,  that  he  had  to  do  it.  Had  it  been  the 
Thames  that  was  before  him,  no  doubt  he  would  have 
plunged  in,  just  the  same." 

"  His  wonderful  influence  over  his  hunters — a  matter  of 
astonishment  to  every  one — was  once  exemplified  in  a  rather 
curious  way  when,  having  mounted  a  friend  on  his  cele- 
brated horse  Cicero,  which  was  carrying  his  rider  like  a  bird, 
the  hounds  running  breast-high  across  the  wide  pasture 
lands  of  Leicestershire,  the  keen  eye  of  Assheton  Smith 
discerned  at  the  same  time  a  strong  flight  of  rails  of  a 
somewhat  ugly  aspect,  and  his  friend's  evident  dislike  to 
encounter  it.  Judging  that  he  would  probably  make  the 
horse  refuse,  he  cried  out — '  Come  up,  Cicero  !  '  At  the 
well-known  voice  of  command,  Cicero  had  but  one  idea, 
that  of  obedience,  and  over  he  went,  but  the  rider,  who  had 
never  intended  to  perform  this  feat,  was  left  rolling  on  the 
-HISS,  fortunately,  however,  without  injury." 

Assheton  Smith  was  a  "  character,"  and  so  "  character- 
istic "  were  many  of  his  ways,  that  some  people  pronounced 
him  as  mad  as  the  distinguished  Admiral  who  enjoyed  the 
same  patronymic,  and  whose  "  insanity  "  consisted  in  risk- 
ing his  own  life  without  a  thought,  whenever  duty,  of  which 
he  hud  a  superlative  idea,  called  him  to  action  :  of  him 


150  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

Macaulay  said — "it  would  be  well  if  we  had  a  few  more 
officers  as  mad." 

Assheton  Smith's  love  for,  and  treatment  of,  birds  and 
other  animals  much  resembled  that  of  Squire  Waterton,  and 
he  protected,  in  a  similar  way,  those  which  clustered  round 
his  house  and  seemed  to  seek  sanctuary  under  his 
protection. 

Beckford  would  seem  to  have  had  Assheton  Smith  in  his 
mind's  eye  when,  after  asserting  that  it  is  not  more  difficult 
to  find  a  good  premier  than  a  perfect  huntsman,  he  includes 
in  his  description  of  what  he  ought  to  be,  all  those  qualifica- 
tions which  peculiarly  distinguished  the  "  Great  '  Master '  of 
the  nineteenth  century  "  ;  the  requisites  pointed  out  being 
— a  clear  head,  nice  observation,  quick  apprehension, 
undaunted  courage,  strength  of  constitution,  activity  of 
body,  a  good  ear  and  a  good  voice — these,  however,  were 
far  from  exhausting  the  catalogue  of  Assheton  Smith's 
attributes  as  a  mighty  hunter. 

This  wonderful  sporting-man  remained  sport-ive  to  the 
last,  and  died  if  not  "in  harness,"  almost  in  the  saddle, 
in  1858,  at  the  age  of  82 ;  it  must  indeed  have  been, 
as  has  been  said  by  those  about  him,  a  melancholy  spec- 
tacle to  witness  the  surviving  flashes  of  the  "  ruling  passion 
strong  in  death "  wrhich  continued  to  animate  the  once 
vigorous  and  dauntless  huntsman  who  seemed  unable  to 
exist  unless  on  horseback. 

During  the  last  days  of  his  waning  life,  like  Francois  ler, 
he  still  yearned  after  his  favourite  pastime,  and  though, 
like  that  monarch,  when  dying,  he  had  to  be  assisted 
to  mount,  he  passed  two  or  three  hours  daily,  riding  up  and 
down  his  vast  winter-garden,  a  poor  substitute,  it  is  true, 
for  the  wild  fields  over  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to 
range  :  no  sooner,  however,  was  he  on  the  back  of  one  of  his 
favourite  horses  than  he  looked  ten  years  younger,  and  it  was 
matter  of  never-ending  wonder  to  his  attendants,  that  he 
not  only  maintained  himself  in  the  saddle,  but  that  his  hand 


HIS  HABITS.  151 


had  lost  none  of  its  cunning,  So  perfect  was  his  system  of 
riding,  and  so  entirely  had  habit  become  second  nature,  that 
he  left  full  play  to  his  mount  and  could  still  check  him  at 
pleasure  in  the  liberties  he  permitted  himself,  with  a  dex- 
terity and  a  coolness  which  served  him  instead  of  vigour  and 
muscular  force. 

"  E'en  in  our  ashes,  live  their  wonted  fires." 

"  Tom  Smith,"  throughout  his  long  life,  and  even  in  the 
days  when  to  be  a  hard  drinker,  so  far  from  being  a  disgrace, 
was  rather  a  boast,  was  extremely  temperate,  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  he  could  be  persuaded  to  take  any  kind  of 
stimulant  in  his  last  illness.  He  usually  made  a  hearty 
breakfast,  and  rarely  took  anything  between  that  meal  and 
his  late  dinner.* 

Despite  his  somewhat  imperious  manner  (resulting 
probably  from  the  high  estimation  in  which  he  was  held,  and 
the  court  paid  to  him  as  possessing  a  unique  county  and 
social,  position),  he  had  splendid  qualities  of  heart  and  mind. 
He  always  acted  on  high  principles,  and  did  valuable  and 
lasting  service  in  giving  a  tone  of  refinement  to  field  sports 
generally,  discountenancing  every  kind  of  coarseness,  and 
allowing  no  approach  to  intemperance  within  his  own  circle. 
To  forward  this  end,  he  made  up  his  hunting-parties  with  a 
judiciously  selected  contingent  of  the  fair  sex,  and  however 
rough  a  rider  he  may  have  been,  he  never  lost  sight  of 
the  courtesies  and  amenities  of  life. 

An  amusing  and  humorous  story  is  told,  illustrative  of 
the  vagaries  of  his  character.  "  He  was  in  the  habit,"  says 
the  narrator,  "  of  often  staying  at  Belvoir  Castle  for 
the  facility  of  joining  the  various  packs  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  would  frequently  ride  to  cover  of  a  morning 
from  Belvoir  to  Gumley,  a  distance  of  over  thirty  miles, 

;;:  This  was  not  an  unusual  practice  at  that  time.  I  knew  an  English  general, 
long  in  the  Indian  service,  who  lived  to  ninety-five,  and  who,  though  he  frequently 
sat  at  the  family  luncheon  table,  would  on  no  consideration  have  eaten  a  mouthful 
between  8  a.m.  and  8  p.m.,  regarding  lunch  as  "  an  insult  to  breakfast  and  an 
injury  to  dinner." 


152  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

and  back  again  at  night.  To  get  through  such  long 
distances  he  had  to  rise  early,  and,  therefore,  to  break- 
fast alone,  at  the  Castle.  On  one  occasion  he  took  it  into 
his  head  that  he  was  not  being  served  with  proper  respect 
and  consideration,  and  he  complained  to  the  butler  of  a 
want  of  due  attention  in  the  preparation  of  the  breakfast 
put  before  him.  The  Duke  was  informed  by  the  man  of 
what  had  passed,  and  next  morning  when  he  sat  down  to 
his  early  meal  he  found  the  table  surrounded  by  all  the 
servants  in  their  state  liveries." 

"Another  time  he  had  complained  of  not  being  supplied  with 
a  sufficiency  of  muffins  ;  the  Duke  having  heard  of  it  ordered 
the  servants,  when  he  next  breakfasted  there  among  other 
guests',  to  ply  him  with  a  continual  succession  of  hot 
muffins.  The  Duke  had  a  great  regard  for  '  Tom  Smith,' 
and  as  he  felt  quite  sure  that  he  received  every  kind  of  con- 
sideration from  his  servants,  he  thought  that  this  humorous 
rebuke  would  remove  the  impression  that  there  had  been 
any  want  of  attention  on  the  part  of  his  household." 

Assheton  Smith  had  no  children,  and  left  the  whole  of 
his  enormous  wealth,  unreservedly,  to  his  wife,  who,  however, 
survived  him  but  a  very  few  months.  Mrs.  Smith  at  her 
death,  made  a  very  fair  distribution  of  the  property,  leaving 
the  whole  of  her  husband's  Welsh  possessions,  exceeding  in 
value  £40,000  a  year,  to  the  grandson  of  his  sister,  and  the 
Tedworth  estate  to  the  sons  of  her  own  sister.  I  remember 
a  curious  legal  quibble  that  arose  out  of  the  wording  of  Mrs. 
Assheton  Smith's  will ;  to  the  best  of  my  recollection  her 
property  in  Wilts  was  left  to  cue  nephew  and  that  in  Hants 
to  another ;  when  the  will  came  to  be  acted  upon,  it  was 
discovered  that,  in  the  case  of  the  Wilts  property,  the  house 
stood  in  one  county  and  the  land  lay  in  the  other,  and 
the  law  decided  that  the  property  must  be  divided,  not 
according  to  the  spirit,  but  according  to  the  letter  of  the  will ! 

Among  social  and  literary  celebrities  of  the  century  it- 
would  be  impossible  to  omit  mention  of  an  old  and  valued 


CHARLES  WATERTON. 


153 


friend,  the  great  naturalist,  Charles  Waterton,  another  cele- 
brated "  Squire,"  were  it  not  that  there  would  be  so  much — 
of  a  personal  nature — to  relate  about  him  that  it  would  alto- 
gether exceed  the  limits  of  this  work.  Charles  Waterton's 
popularity  was  (and  remains)  so  universal  that  no  one  would 
care  to  have  a  shabby  and  abbreviated  account  of  him ;  I 
therefore  reserve  the  matter  that  relates  to  him  for  a  future 
publication. 

It  must  have  been  somewhere  about  1854  that  I  used 
frequently   to  see   the    Ouseley   family,   the   son   and  two 


H.E.  SIB  WILLIAM  GONE  OCSELEY. 
(Ambassador  Extraordinary  to  the  Court  of  Pinia.) 

daughters   of    Sir   William   Gore    Ouseley,   the  celebrated  sir  Wm.  Gore 

0  .  J  7  Ouseley  and  j 

diplomatist  and  Orientalist  —  Persian  ambassador  under  his  Family. 
George  IV.  The  Misses  Ouseley  were  extremely  cultivated, 
and  at  the  time  I  speak  of,  their  brother,  the  Kev.  Sir 
Frederick  Arthur  Gore  Ouseley,  being  curate  under  the 
J.  AY.  E.  In'imett,  of  St.  Barnabas'  celebrity,  they 
very  much  engrossed  in  parochial  work  in  that 
locality.  They  possessed  u  number  of  rare  Eastern  curios, 


154  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

brought  back  by  their  father  from  the  scenes  of  his 
diplomatic  service,  and  were  most  kind  in  showing  this 
unique  collection  to  any  friends  interested  in  ancient 
Oriental  art.  Some  Persian  illuminated  MSS.  of  early 
date  were  surprising  for  the  taste  and  minuteness  with 
which  they  were  executed.  In  one  of  these  I  happen  to 
remember  an  exquisitely  painted,  quaint,  and  curiously- 
fashioned  tree  ;  on  one  of  the  branches  was  a  nest  just 
discernible  to  the  unassisted  eye,  but  on  applying  a  magni- 
fying glass,  it  was  found  to  be  full  of  tiny  eggs  ;  it  is 
almost  incredible  that  such  work  could  be  executed  without 
a  lens.  The  colours  of  these  ancient  illuminations,  too, 
were  most  brilliant,  and  the  gold  touches  as  bright  as  if 
they  had  been  applied  but  yesterday. 

When  Mr.  Bennett  left  the  scene  of  his  labours  at 
Knightsbridge,  and  accepted  from  the  Marquess  of  Bath 
the  living  of  Frome,  the  Misses  Gore  Ouseley  followed 
him,  and  whenever  I  went  there,  I  found  them  most  assi- 
duously and  practically  interested  in  the  labours  of  the 
parish.  They  displayed  great  taste  and  aptitude  in  all 
varieties  of  artistic  work,  and  passed  their  leisure  in 
designing  and  working,  either  with  the  paint-brush  or  the 
needle,  tasteful  and  elaborate  ecclesiastical  decorations. 

The  whole  family  was  musical,  but  Sir  Frederick  was  a 
born  musician,  displaying  his  extraordinary  capacity  from 
the  nursery  days  (in  which,  according  to  a  well-known 
.story,  he  one  day  exclaimed  that  "  papa  had  sneezed 
in  the  key  of  C  "),  till  he  ultimately  attained  to  a 
wonderful  proficiency  in  the  science  ;  at  eight  years 
of  age  he  had  written  an  opera — L'isola  disabitata ; 
cantatas  followed,  and  one  of  these  was  the  exercise  by 
which  he  proved  himself  entitled  to  the  honour  of  Mus. 
Bac.  in  1850,  when  aged  only  twenty-five.  In  1854  he  took 
the  higher  degree  in  music  on  producing  his  oratorio  of  St. 
Polycarp,  and  he  was  most  prolific  in  sacred  music ; 
ultimately  he  obtained  the  Professorship  of  Music  at 


THE  GORE  OUSELEY  FAMILY.  155 

Oxford,  he  was  also  Precentor  of  Hereford  Cathedral,  and 
later  was  inducted  to  St.  Michael's,  Tenbury,  where  he 
instituted  the  daily  choral  service. 

Sir  Frederick  was  a  graduate  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford ; 
he  died  in  1889,  and  the  title  became  extinct. 

As  a  contemporary  testimony  to  the  value  of  Sir 
William  Gore  Ouseley  as  an  Oriental  scholar,  I  may  quote 
Cyrus  Eedding  *  who,  on  the  -death  of  Ouseley,  speaks  in  a 
despondent  tone  of  our  chances  of  ever  fathoming  the 
depths,  and  fully  appreciating  the  beauties,  of  Eastern  litera- 
ture. He  writes  in  1858  :— 

"  So  little  public  interest  is  felt  on  learned  topics,  that  it 
is  only  through  such  institutions  as  the  Camden  Society, 
that  any  of  the  works  of  Orientalists — or  indeed  any  similar 
subjects  from  other  sources — can  again  be  expected  to  appear 
in  English  garb  ;  .  .  .  the  taste  for  Eastern  learning  in  all  its 
branches  has,  since  the  death  of  Sir  William  Gore  Ouseley, 
rapidly  declined." 

I  once  accompanied  a  friend  to  call  on  Lord  John  Russell,  Earl  Busseii. 
then  Earl  Russell,  at  Pembroke  Lodge,  Richmond,  given  to 
him  by  the  Queen.  It  was  somewhere  about  1870,  and  the 
Earl  must  have  been  nearly  eighty.  Though  there  was  no 
sign  of  absolute  infirmity,  he  looked  his  age,  and  his  small 
stature  gave  him  the  appearance  of  being  shrunk.  He  wore 
a  black  skull-cap  and  a  comfortable  dressing-gown,  and  was 
seated  writing  at  a  knee-hole  table  covered  with  papers — 
for  he  received  us  in  his  study.  His  memory  seemed 
bright,  and  he  talked  of  his  vivid  recollection  of  my  friend's 
father,  and  of  his  book  on  the  authorship  of  Junius's  letters, 
expressing  his  decided  opinion  as  to  their  having  emanated 
from  the  pen  of  Francis.  He  told  the  story  of  some  young 
Club-man  (I  forget  whom)  having  been  sent  by  a  group  of 
others,  who  saw  Sir  Philip  approaching,  to  ask  him  if  he 
were  the  writer  of  that  disputed  correspondence.  "  What's 

:;:  History  of  His  Own  Times,  vol.  iii.  p.  9. 


156  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

that  to  you,  sir?  "  answered  Francis,  fiercely;  on  which  the 
inquirer  hastily  retreated,  returning  with  the  reply,  "  I 
don't  know  if  he's  Junius,  but  there's  no  doubt  he's  Brutus." 
Lord  Russell's  manner  was  pleasant  and  cordial,  and  he 
smiled  and  spoke  kindly  to  one  of  his  children  who  came 
into  the  room.  It  was  not  very  long  after  Christmas,  and 
when  he  took  us  through  a  door  of  communication  into  the 
drawing-room,  I  observed  a  large  bunch  of  mistletoe  sus- 
pended from  the  chandelier,  and  a  fringe  of  the  same 
arranged  along  the  lintel  over  the  folding  doors,  suggesting 
a  recent  merry-meeting  of  young  folks.  The  Earl  died  in 
1878,  and  it  was  his  grandson  who  succeeded  him. 
sir  Waiter  With  the  late  Sir  Walter  Stirling,  who  died  in  December, 
1888,  at  the  age  of  eighty-seven,  I  enjoyed  a  valued  friend- 
ship of  nearly  thirty  years.  With  him  departed  a  well- 
known  figure  in  London  society,  in  which  he  was  a  general 
favourite,  from  his  kind  and  genial  manner,  and  very  inte- 
resting conversation  :  he  had  always  a  fund .  of  anecdote  at 
command,  and  was  an  admirable  raconteur.  It  is  to  be 
regretted  he  did  not  note  down  his  reminiscences,  which,, 
owing  to  his  large  acquaintance  and  wide  cultivation,  ex- 
tended over  an  unusual  number  of  persons  and  subjects,  and 
would  have  proved  a  source  of  enjoyment  to  all  appreciators- 
of  social  research.  Sir  Walter's  own  tastes  were  exceedingly 
refined,  and  he  was  a  keen  connoisseur  in  works  of  art :  he 
W7as  so  constant  an  liabitue  at  Christie's  that  he  will  long  be 
missed  within  those  familiar  walls,  where  it  was  a  real  plea- 
sure to  meet  him,  and  to  listen  to  his  remarks  on  every  de- 
scription of  article  of  virtu.  I  may  fairly  say  that  it  was 
rare  to  meet  Sir  Walter  without  obtaining  some  little  bit  of 
valuable  information  which  few  others  at  the  present  day 
could  have  supplied,  and  I  have  often  regretted  not  having 
made  notes  of  many  conversations  I  have  had  with  him. 
His  ideas  on  social  subjects  were  straightforward,  sen- 
sible, honest,  and  considerate,  and  he  spoke,  on  public 
and  semi-public  occasions,  with  an  evident  sincerity  of 


SIR  WALTER  STIRLING.  157 

conviction  which  always  gave  value  to  his  words.  It 
would  be  well  for  this  country  if  his  views  of  public 
"  education "  (as  it  has  come  to  be  administered)  were 
more  widely  shared  and  could  be  practically  applied.  He 
entertained  a  shrewd  appreciation  of  its  then  corning 
—and  now,  alas!  palpable  —  results.  We  are,  in  fact, 
already  undergoing,  to  the  spreading  dissatisfaction  and 
alarm  of  the  country,  the  realization  of  Sir  Walter's  fore- 
cast, founded  on  wise  reflection,  and  resulting  from  sound 
and  logical  judgment. 

One  day,  \vhen  writing  to  myself,  he  had  unconsciously 
taken  up  a  sheet  of  paper,  on  the  other  side  of  which  he 
had  apparently  jotted  down  the  heads  of  an  intended 
speech.  However  fragmentary,  they  are  indicative  of  what 
he  purposed  to  point  out,  and  were  as  follows  : — 

"  Crude,  ill-considered  pleas — So-called  '  education,'  not 

the   kind    of    education    wanted — Education    suppos'd    to 

sharpen  wits — Proofs  ? — Increase  of  roguery  everywhere — 

General   untrustworthiness — Thieves  who   get  the   benefit 

of  science  to  misuse  it — No  more  principles — Art  prostituted 

—Renders  folks  irreligious — Disloyal — Critical — Rebellious 

-Disaffected — Unfaithful — Disobedient     to      employers — 

Unhappy -- Discontented  —  Ideas   above    their    station  — 

Leading  to  envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  finally  dishonesty." 

In  telling  Sir  Walter  of  his  oversight  I  added  I  should 
store  up  these  mems.,  and  only  hoped  that  the  speech 
which  was  to  embody  them  would  be  fairly  reported  and 
widely  circulated. 

Talking  with  him  of  the  levelling  tendencies  of  the  age, 
and  quoting  Danton's  crude  and  illogical  reply  (when  asked 
what  was  the  object  of  the  Revolution)  to  the  effect  that — 
"  C'est  pour  mettre  dessus  ce  qui  est  (lessons,  et  pour  mettre 
dessous  ce  qui  est  dessus."  Sir  Walter  answered — 

"  So  that  in  the  next  generation  there  will  have  to  be 
another  public  movement  in  England  to  restore  the  masses 
and  the  classes  respectively  to  their  original  positions  !  " 


158  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

"  The  fact  is,"  he  continued,  "  we  have  had,  or  rather  are 
having,  a  Revolution  in  England  ;  the  motives  are  the  same 
— though  with  less  excuse — as  those  which  occasioned  the 
Revolution  in  France ;  but  we  are  not  a  sanguinary  people 
and  the  object  is  being  accomplished  without  bloodshed." 

I  have  many  of  Sir  Walter's  letters  ;  he  had  the  art  of 
writing  with  conciseness,  and  saying  much  in  a  few  words  ; 
he  wrote  a  clear  and  beautiful  hand,  delightfully  legible,  and 
though  it  might  be  likened  to  copper-plate,  it  indicated  a 
very  distinctive  character. 

I  have  spoken  of  Sir  Walter  as  a  raconteur,  and  I  was 
often  surprised  at  the  d  propos  of  his  anecdotes.  Chancing 
to  meet  him,  one  day,  in  Hyde  Park,  and  making  some 
remark  on  that  portion  of  Park  Lane  which  belongs  to  the 
Stanhope  estate,  he  related  the  curious  disposition  of  it 
made  by  Lord  Chesterfield  of  elegant  memory.  At  the 
time  of  that  nobleman's  death  it  was  worth  no  more  than 
£50,000.  This  may  have  seemed  a  large  figure  then,  but  is 
wholly  disproportionate  to  its  present  value.  Having  no 
legitimate  son,  he  bequeathed  it  to  his  nephew,  saddled, 
however — or  rather,  bridled — with  so  stringent  and  so  dis- 
tasteful a  condition,  that  the  reckless  youth  seemed  in  every 
way  likely  to  leap  over  the  traces.  He  was  an  inveterate 
turfite,  and  the  Earl  must  have  had  a  shrewd  suspicion  that 
he  would  never,  even  should  he  be  induced  to  make  the 
attempt,  give  up  the  one  pursuit  which  had  long  formed  the 
charm  of  his  life.  Yet  were  the  terms  of  this  Will  such, 
that,  if  ever  he  was  found  at  Newmarket,  a  fine  of  £5,000 
out  of  the  estate  became  forfeit  to  the  Dean  and  Chapter 
of  Westminster.  That  this  prudent  and  respectable  body 
would  prove  sufficiently  mindful  of  their  own  interests  to 
keep  a  vigilant  eye  on  the  heir  they  might  become  entitled 
to  mulct,  the  wily  old  Earl,  no  doubt,  felt  fully  satisfied. 
The  event  proved  with  what  subtlety  he  had  fathomed  the 
depths  of  human  nature ;  it  was  not  long  before  the  con- 
tingency provided  against,  occurred,  and  the  property  duly 


SIR  WALTER'S  ANECDOTES.  159 

reverted  to  the  ecclesiastical  corporation,  who  had,  of  course, 
kept  a  vigilant  look-out. 

The  terms  of  Lord  Chesterfield's  Will  were  as  follows  : — 

"  In  case  my  said  godson  Philip  Stanhope  shall  at  any 
time  hereafter  keep  or  be  concerned  in  keeping  of  any 
race-horses  or  pack  of  hounds,  or  shall  reside  one  night  in 
Newmarket — that  infamous  den  of  iniquity  and  ill  manners- 
— during  the  races  there,  or  shall  resort  to  the  said  races,  or 
shall  lose  on  any  one  day  at  any  game  or  bet  soever,  the 
sum  of  £500,  it  is  my  express  wish  that  he  my  said  godson 
shall  forfeit  and  pay  out  of  my  estate  £5,000  for  the  use 
of  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  Westminster." 

A  curious  personal  anecdote  that  Sir  Walter  once  told  me 
is  illustrative  of  the  changes  a  few  years  bring  into  our  social 
habits.  He  was  sitting  on  the  Derby  Day,  1828,  in  the 
window  of  White's  Club,  where  a  number  of  members 
interested  in  the  result  of  the  race  were  anxiously  awaiting 
the  name  of  the  "  winner."  The  news,  it  seems,  was  for- 
warded by  pigeon  service — instead  of,  as  at  present,  by  yell- 
ing men  and  screeching  boys — and  at  last  the  winged  mes- 
senger was  descried.  The  excitement  was  immense,  but  it 
was  soon  intensified  by  the  singular  manoeuvres  of  the  bird,, 
which,  instead  of  alighting  at  the  destined  point,  continued, 
for  some  unexplained  reason,  to  hover  over  the  spot.  At 
length  one  member  who  had  a  large  stake  in  jeopardy,  could 
no  longer  brook  the  delay,  and  fetching  a  loaded  gun  he 
aimed  at  the  bird  and  shot  it  dead.  "  Yes,"  he  concluded,. 
"  I  saw  that,  myself,  in  St.  James's  Street." 

The  betting  of  those  days,  however,  was  proverbial 
—though  perhaps  less  widely  spread  than  now.  There 
was  no  question,  however  important,  or  however  trifling, 
which  did  not  immediately  become  the  subject  of  a  bet, 
and  the  anecdotes  that  survive  of  the  extent  to  which 
the  practice  was  carried  by  the  Prince  Eegent,  Fox, 
Sheridan,  Croker,  and  others,  are  too  well  known  to 
need  quotation. 


160  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

Towards  the  end  of  his  life,  poor  Sir  Walter's  hearing 
became  impaired,  and  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  carry  on 
any  conversation  with  him.  It  was  evidently  a  sad  affliction 
to  himself,  and  of  his  friends  there  could  be  none  who  did 
not  deplore  it.  He  had  long  been  a  careful  and  intelligent 
collector  of  works  of  art,  adding  with  judgment  and  taste 
from  time  to  time  to  those  he  owned  by  inheritance. 

I  always  admired  in  him  an  independence  of  spirit  mani- 
fested in  occasional  deviations  from  the  hard-and-fast  laws 
of  social  tyranny.  When  a  man  of  any  influence  and  posi- 
tion is  bold  enough  to  make  his  way  through  "  the  cactus- 
hedge  of  conventionality"  at  his  own  good  pleasure,  and 
in  a  way  that  harms  no  one,  he  creates  a  valuable  precedent 
and  confers  a  benefit  on  his  class. 

Though  aged  and  deaf,  Sir  Walter  never  became  senile, 
and  always  continued  to  be  thoughtful  for  others.  Not  very 
long  before  his  death,  presiding  at  a  meeting  of  the  Art  Union 
Society,  of  which  he  had  for  many  years  been  a  member,  he 
wound  up  his  speech  with  a  complimentary  allusion  to  the 
worth  of  the  Secretary,  whose  loug  and  efficient  services  in 
that  capacity,  he  said,  were  profoundly  appreciated  by  the 
Association.  He  spoke  with  an  apparent  presentiment  of 
the  probably  near  conclusion  of  his  term  of  life,  and  gave 
expression  to  his  desire  not  to  let  this  opportunity  pass, 
as  he  would  wish  not  to  depart  till  he  had  fulfilled  this 
friendly  duty.  Being  in  the  habit  of  speaking  in  public, 
his  voice  was  audible  through  the  hall,  and  there  was  no 
person  present  who  was  not  penetrated  with  the  pathetic 
simplicity  and  sincerity  of  his  words,  so  soon  to  be  verified. 
Mr.  £  F.  I  was  a^  a  large  party  at  the  house  of  the  American 

Adams,  the      Minister,  Mr.  J.  Francis  Adams,  in  Portland  Place,  on  the 

American  ~f 

Minister.  national  anniversary  fete  July  4th,  in  the  year  1867.  It 
was  remarkable  on  account  of  the  stirring  incidents  then 
occurring  in  Mexico,  and  it  was  just  at  that  moment  that 
news  wras  received  of  the  execution  of  the  ill-fated  and 
victimized  Emperor  Maximilian — so  beloved  in  his  own 


CONVERSAZIONE  AT  THE   AMERICAN  MINISTER'S.   161 

countyr — a  startling  and  also  a  pathetic  episode  in  that 
melancholy  history  ;  horrifying,  too,  to  think  that  that 
brave  but  ill-advised  young  Prince  was  abandoned  to  the 
barbarity  of  semi-savages  and  that  not  a  hand  or  a  voice 
was  raised  throughout  the  civilized  world  to  save  him— 
scarcely  to  condemn  the  treachery  of  the  Emperor  on  whose 
promised  support  he  had  relied. 

A  grand  supper  formed  part  of  the  entertainment ;  being 
seated  near  the  master  of  the  house  and  the  conver- 
sation turning  on  the  tragic  event,  I  could  not  but  ex- 
press my  horror  of  all  who  had  contributed  directly  or 
indirectly  to  the  ghastly  consummation  :  but  there  was 
no  responsive  pity  in  the  reply  I  received  ;  on  the  contrary, 
America  made  believe  to  regard  the  execution  as  "  a  just 
retribution  for  the  Prince's  merciless  abuse  of  power  at  the 
very  commencement  of  his  brief  reign."  The  minister 
urged  that  he  had  inaugurated  it  by  signing  the  death- 
warrants  of  all  who  had  taken  any  part  in  the  defence 
of  Juarez.  It  was  in  vain  I  reminded  him  that,  even  sup- 
posing this  measure  not  to  have  been  a  necessary  one,  it 
was  Marechal  Bazaine,  if  not  the  French  Government  itself, 
which  had  decreed  it ;  indeed  it  was  universally  known  that 
Maximilian's  nature  was  clement  and  forgiving,  also  that 
Bazaine  had  been  his  evil  genius  from  first  to  last ;  he  had 
industriously  striven  by  every  possible  means  to  unpopu- 
1  arize  the  unfortunate  Emperor;  he  had  mismanaged  most 
disgracefully  the  affairs  of  the  country,  and  when  ruin  fell 
upon  the  young  Prince,  he  had  supported  Napoleon  III. 
in  his  treachery,  and  encouraged  that  Emperor  to  abandon 
him  to  his  fate.  This,  I  soon  found,  was  not  the  view  taken 
by  the  American  mind. 

"Why,"  said  they,  "  was  he  so  weak;  why  did  he  consent 
to  be  directed  by  such  a  fellow  as  Bazaine  ?  Why,  indeed, 
did  he  accept  the  position  at  all  ?  " 

"Why?"  said  I,  "but  because  he  was  a  fine,  spirited 
youth,  of  too  noble  a  nature  to  suspect  that  those  who  had 

VOL.    I.  12 


162  GOSSIP  OP   THE   CENTUKY. 

forced  the  position  on  him,  on  the  understanding  that  he 
was  to  count  on  their  support,  intended  remorselessly  to 
abandon  him." 

"Nay,"  was  the  reply,  "if  it  be  admitted  that  he  followed 
an  ill-advised  policy  against  his  own  better  judgment,  he 
had  no  excuse  ;  and  granting  his  fine  feeling,  clear  head,  and 
distinct  consciousness  of  the  course  he  ought  to  have 
pursued,  his  vacillation  becomes  but  the  more  reprehensible." 
In  fact,  from  whatever  cause,  all  who  had  by  degrees  joined 
in  the  conversation  were  equally  unrelenting  in  their  con- 
demnation of  the  unfortunate  Prince. 

I  remembered  that  when  at  Heilbronn  I  had  seen  por- 
traits of  Maximilian  at  several  stages  of  his  infancy  and 
youth,  all  remarkable  for  the  sweet  and  innocent,  yet 
spirited  character  they  gave  him  ;  and  it  seemed  sad  indeed 
to  think  that  a  Prince  of  so  much  promise  and  so  beloved 
and  valued  as  he  had  been  there,  should  have  come  to  so 
tragic  and  untimely  an  end. 

The  4th  July  celebration  being  a  conversazione,  there  was 
no  dancing  ;  the  rooms  were  nevertheless  half  filled  with 
ladies,  many  of  them  young,  and  nearly  all,  handsome  ;  some 
remarkably  so  :  these  I  was  told  were  from  St.  Louis,  where 
the  beauty  of  the  women  is  universally  recognized.  These 
ladies  were  apparently  fully  conscious  of  their  charms  which 
were  liberally  unveiled,  and  no  one  seemed  scandalized.  The 
Minister's  wife  was  a  very  elegant  woman,  and  she  herself 
was  very  modestly  dressed ;  it  is  true  she  had  grown-up 
daughters,  one  of  them  already  married,  who,  however, 
followed  the  fashion  that  prevailed  among  the  rest,  and 
which  might  airly  be  said  to  exceed  the  limits  of  good 
taste. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  There  are  few  among  us  who  will  not  remember  the 
social  uprise  and  rapid  spread  of  the  ' '  spiritualistic  move- 
ment," first  in  London  and  then  in  the  provinces.  It  began 
with  turning  tables,  went  on  to  turning  hats,  and  ended  by 
turning  heads.  Heads  being  turned,  the  new  science  took 


MR.  AND  MRS.   S.   C.   HALL.  163 

a  new  start,  and  though  it  was  soon  abandoned  by  the 
majority,  a  large  minority  held  on,  like  grim  death,  and 
some  of  those  are  sticking  to  it  still ! 

Among  the  social  celebrities  of  their  time  who  became 
proselytes  and  also  proselytizers  to  a  practical  belief  in  the 
supernatural,  were  that  original  pair  of  notabilities  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall. 

Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall  had  the  charming  manners  of  her 
nationality,  and  made  herself  extremely  popular  with  the 
vast  number  of  acquaintances  she  attracted  to  her  salon. 
There  was  humour  of  a  spontaneous  kind  in  her  conversa- 
tion, though  it  never  amounted  to  "  absolute  bullism."  I  was 
calling  on  her  one  day  with  a  young  English  girl  who,  in 
the  course  of  conversation,  vehemently  declared  that  she 
would  "  never  marry  any  but  a  Frenchman." 

"  Ah  !  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall,  "when  the  right 
man  comes,  you  won't  stop  to  inquire  into  his  nationality." 

The  gatherings  there,  were  generally  lively  and  amusing ; 
habitues  met,  and  there  was  often  some  centre  of  attraction 
which  interested  all,  while  the  general  friendly  feeling  among 
the  guests  showed  that  all  felt  themselves  in  a  homelike 
atmosphere.  Now  and  then  there  would  be  a  stray  "  lion  " 
of  the  literary  or  artistic  type  whose  roar  was  startling, 
and  whom  people  thought  it  amusing  to  meet  outside 
his  cage,  and  without  a  keeper ;  sometimes  there  were 
musical  geniuses,  vocal  or  instrumental,  stars  of  greater  or 
lesser — generally  lesser — magnitude.  Sometimes — indeed 
frequently — Mr.  Home  was  to  be  met  there,  and  then  Mrs. 
Hall  was  thoroughly  in  her  element.  She  believed  in  all 
the  phenomena  of  spiritualism,  and  Mr.  Home  was  her 
prophet.  Occasionally  the  weekly  apres-midi  proved  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  spiritualistic  seance,  and  the  usual 
experiences — for  there  is  a  wonderful  similarity  in  them — 
were  manifested  to  the  company. 

On  my  arrival,  one  day,  I  was  accosted  by  a  friend  who 
expressed  her  regret  that  I  had  not  come  earlier,  as  I  had 


164  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

missed  a  very  extraordinary  sight ;  Mr.  Home,  it  appeared, 
"  had  taken  a  red-hot  cinder  out  of  the  fire,  with  his  fingers., 
and  had  laid  it  on  the  palm  of  Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall's  hand." 

Every  one  thought  it  a  wonderful  feat,  and  I  asked  my 
informant  what  was  her  own  opinion  of  it. 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,"  said  she,  "  I  didn't  see  it 
myself"  —one  never  does  get  these  things  first-hand  ! — "  but 
was  told  of  it  by  a  gentleman  who  said  it  was  just  before 
I  came  in." 

"  Who  was  it  that  told  you  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  hear  his  name,  but  he  said  that  while  in  the 
next  room  he  heard  something  unusual  going  on  near  the 
fireplace,  and  got  in  just  after  Mrs.  Hall  had  dropped  the 
coal." 

This  kind  of  labyrinthine  evidence  is  not  very  new,  but  often 
satisfies  those  to  whom  it  is  imparted.  I  contented  myself 
with  a  private  smile,  reserving  the  right  of  mistrusting  itr 
though  of  course  we  all  know  how  cleverly  conjuring  tricks 
can  be  performed  even  by  amateurs  if  they  are  sufficiently 
practised. 

Mr.  Homp.  It  would  have  been  an  abuse  of  the  rites  of  hospitality  to- 
run  a  tilt  with  Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall,  so  implicit  was  her  own  faith 
in  the  sincerity  of  her  friend  and  apostle.  Mr.  Home,  too, 
was  one  of  the  most  amusing  men  imaginable,  and  a  real 
acquisition  whether  at  a  large  or  "small,  tea-party."  At 
narration  he  was  wonderfully  proficient — quite  at  Jiome,  in 
fact — and  could  move  his  audience  to  laughter  or  to  tears,. 
at  his  own  good  pleasure  ;  he  had  moreover  great  power  of 
face,  and  remembered  the  Horation  precept — 

"  .  .  .  Si  vis  me  flere,  dolendum  est 
Primum  ipsi  tibi."  .  .  . 

The  buzz  of  voices  and  clatter  of  teaspoons  was  suddenly 
suspended ;  Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall  had  contrived,  notwithstanding 
the  din,  to  intimate  that  Mr.  Home  was  going  to  "favour 
the  company  :  "  the  centre  of  the  room  was  cleared,  chairs, 


MR.   HOME.  165 


were  pushed  back  to  the  wall  and  were  soon  ranged,  with 
more  or  less  regularity,  in  rows.  It  pleased  the  reciter,  who 
was  sometimes  serious  and  sentimental  in  his  narrations,  to 
be  funny  on  this  occasion,  and  he  told  two  irresistibly  droll 
stories  ;  the  humour,  which  tickled  the  audience  immensely, 
consisting  as  much  in  his  manner  as  in  the  matter. 

The  more  amusing  of  the  two  was  a  clever  and  ingenious 
parody  of  the  world-famed  legend  of  George  Washington 
and  the  cherry-tree  ;  this  version  of  "  the  chapter  of  the 
blanket,"  instilled  with  gospel-reverence  into  every  child  of 
the  States,  fortunately  found  in  the  assembly  no  national 
hearers,  or  the  reciter  might  have  been  challenged  on  the 
spot  for  blasphemy. 

In  the  second  story,  as  in  the  first,  the  Yankee  accent 
was  imitated  with  a  spirit  of  fun  and  a  degree  of  fidelity 
which  added  greatly  to  the  diversion  of  the  company ;  its 
humour  was  directed  against  the  character  of  Texas  as  a 
residence,  and  was  conceived  in  the  same  spirit  as  the 
dictum  of  the  American,  who  declared — "  If  those  two 
properties — Hell  and  Texas — b'longed  to  me,  I'd  let  Texas, 
and  go  and  live  in  Hell." 

The  Halls  had  adopted  a  very  original  plan — perhaps,  as 
was  said,  as  an  excuse  for  holding  a  periodical  sale  of 
bibelots  and  articles  of  furniture  acquired  and  accumulated 
in  the  process  of  art-journal  business — of  changing  their 
residence  regularly  every  three  years,  and  during  the  long 
period  I  was  acquainted  with  them,  they  adhered  religiously 
to  the  practice.  They  never  complained  of  the  expense  and 
trouble — so  irksome  to  others  that  there  is  a  universally  ex- 
pressed preference  for  the  proverbial  fire — nor  did  they  appear 
to  take  into  account  the  inevitable  vexations  of  loss,  damage, 
breakage,  or  robbery — no,  the  migration  had  passed  into  an 
accepted  habit ;  it  had  to  be  done,  and  they  did  it.  The 
most  surprising  circumstance  connected  with  it,  was,  that  no 
sooner  had  they  established  themselves  in  a  new  temporary 
domicile  than  they  set  to  work  with  patient  labour  and  also 


166  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

considerable  taste,  to  decorate  and  adorn  their  rooms  with  an 
elaborate  display  of  Chinoiseries  and  bric-a-brac,  rendering 
them  as  elegant  with  these  attractive  accessories,  as  if  they 
were  established  there  for  life.  They  possessed  a  brass  door- 
plate  inscribed  "  Bannow  Lodge,"  from  which  they  never 
parted,  and  whithersoever  they  removed  it  always  appeared, 
screwed  on,  at,  or  near  the  entrance.  I  believe  it  was  the 
name  of  a  "  place  "  they  once  possessed  in  Ireland. 

Mr.  S.  C.  Hall  who  looked  upon  his  "  Maria  "  as  the  con- 
centration of  every  virtue  and  the  possessor  of  any  amount 
of  sound  sense,  followed  in  her  wake  in  his  belief  in  the 
supernatural,  and  came  out  more  strongly  with  it  after  her 
death ;  he  used  to  edify  his  friends  with  accounts  of  the 
interviews  he  had  with  her  after  she  was  in  the  world  of 
spirits,  and  he  even  put  into  type  many  details  of  these 
spiritual  communications.  It  should  be  added  that  this  was 
all  in  sober  seriousness,  for  S.  C.  Hall  tabooed  any  other 
kind  of  spirits,  and  emulated  George  Cruikshank  in  his 
teetotal  views  :  I  have  heard  him  called  "  Temperance 
Hall." 

Both  the  Halls  had,  as  is  well  known,  contributed  to  the 
literature  of  their  country,  and  though  their  works  are  not 
likely  to  be  very  long-lived,  and  were  probably  written  with 
some  idea  of  benefiting  themselves — their  authors  obtained 
a  handsome  double  allowance  from  the  limited  funds  of  the 
Civil  List :  and  this  was  continued  to  Mr.  S.  C.  Hall  after  his 
wife's  death.  The  Memoirs  Mr.  Hall  wrote  are,  however, 
fully  as  useful  and  as  interesting  as  any  "  reminiscences  " 
that  have  appeared,  and  the  lively  descriptions  and  anec- 
dotes that  his  pages  supply  of  well-known  individuals  make 
very  pleasant  reading. 

For  some  years  before  her  death,  Mrs.  Hall,  though 
remaining  as  active,  bright,  and  lively  as  ever,  gave  up  going 
into  society  either  in  the  morning  or  evening,  but  main- 
tained her  reception  days  and  contrived  to  the  last,  to  gather 
many  friends  around  her. 


MB.    S.   C.   HALL'S   BIOGBAPHEBS.  167 

Mr.  Hall  survived  his  wife  some  years,  not  departing  this 
life  till  March,  1889.  At  his  death  the  various  obituary 
notices  that  appeared,  written  apparently  in  a  spirit  of 
indulgent  patronage,  must  be  said  to  have  damaged  far 
more  than  they  benefited  his  reputation.  The  writers 
seem  to  have  combined  to  laud  the  poor  man  in  the  clumsiest 
way,  instituting  a  negative  style  of  praise  by  asserting  that 
he  was  not  a  humbug,  not  a  charlatan,  not  anything  but 
exactly  what  he  ought  to  have  been ;  that  he  did  not  get 
literary  help  from  his  wrife,  that  he  did  not  send  round  the 
hat,  that  his  house  was  not  adorned  with  contributions  from 
advertisers ;  in  short,  there  was  not  one  of  these  indiscreet 
effusions  which  did  not  suggest  the  exclamation,  "  Save  me 
from  my  friends  !  " 

There  was  much  in  Samuel  Carter  Hall's  life  that  deserves 
commendation,  and,  but  for  these  injudicious  scribblers,  he 
might  have  been  remembered,  at  least,  as  a  fine  old  man  with 
a  pleasant  face,  surrounded  by  an  abundance  of  snow-white 
hair.  He  was  always  good-natured,  and  also  always 
courteous  in  his  manner,  and  as  no  one  mistook  him  for 
a  genius,  nothing  extraordinary  was  expected  of  him ;  at  all 
events,  no  one  can  have  been  disappointed  in  him. 

Whether  the  mind  of  London  society  was  particularly  Spiritualism. 
desaeuvre  at  this  time,  or,  for  some  undefined  reason, 
specially  predisposed  to  succumb  to  the  moral  epidemic 
which  crept  into  all  circles  and  invaded  all  social  gather- 
ings, it  is  difficult  to  say  ;  but  certain  it  is  that  spiri- 
tualistic seances  became  a  favourite  form  of  enter- 
tainment, whether  in  public  or  private  assemblies.  For 
the  former,  lectures  on  the  subject  of  spiritualism, 
illustrated  by  the  practical  introduction  of  phenomena 
attributed  to  its  power,  brought  little  fortunes  to  those 
who  possessed  the  art  of  interesting  their  public,  and 
making  capital  of  human  credulity  ;  from  the  classes  of 
course  this  fashionable  fad  soon  spread  to  the  masses,  and 
from  the  salons  of  the  upper  ten  it  filtered  into  the  shop- 


168  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

parlour  of  the  pork-butcher.  Table-turning  was  soon  the 
recognized  amusement  of  the  "  small-and-earlies "  of  the 
humbler,  as  it  had  been  that  of  the  more  fashionable,  assem- 
blies of  the  higher  classes.  It  cost  nothing ;  no  plant  was 
required,  and  it  made  fun ;  it  afforded  opportunities  for  the 
intimacy  which  insensibly  establishes  itself  round  a  common 
interest ;  it  gave  facilities  for  flirtation,  and  it  pleased  every- 
body. This  form  of  alleged  spiritualistic  agency,  on  be- 
coming popular,  necessarily  degenerated  into  a  romp,  and 
was  ultimately  abandoned  to  those  who  enjoyed  it  all  the 
more  on  that  account. 

"Spirit-rapping"  then  got  its  turn,  professors  suddenly 
started  up  in  all  directions,  and  were  eagerly  welcomed,  not 
only  by  the  idle  and  frivolous  who  sought  in  it  mere  amuse- 
ment, but  also  by  the  thoughtful  and  even  the  scientifically 
disposed,  who  "  couldn't  help  fancying — some  that  there 
might,  others  that  there  must,  be  something  in  it."  At 
afternoon  or  evening  parties  where  spirit-rapping,  hat,  or 
table-turning.  &c.,  was  the  order  of  the  day,  a  great  mixture 
of  intelligences  was  sure  to  be  collected ;  some  individuals 
came  for  the  "fun  of  the  thing,"  some  to  be  puzzled,  some 
to  be  enlightened. 

At  the  time  this  mania  was  at  its  wildest,  and  London  was 
infested  by  so-styled  "  mediums,"  fashionable  women  were 
only  too  glad,  as  the  season  came  on,  to  engage  them  at 
absurd  prices,  as  they  would  any  other  of  the  "  amusing" 
classes,  to  entertain  their  guests  ;  it  "  employed  the  even- 
ing," it  was  "  something  new,"  and  the  hostess,  fortunate 
enough  to  secure  the  services  of  a  male  or  female  "  Alexis," 
got  talked  about  among  people  of  ton,  who  followed  in 
her  wake  at  the  first  opportunity,  and  tried  also  to  achieve 
a  social  success. 

Alexis  was  the  champion  medium,  and  it  was  at  a  friend's 
house  in  Westbourne  Terrace  that  I  first  witnessed  his 
performances,  but  though  this  seer  and  the  "  Barnum  "  who 
exhibited  him  went  through  many  remarkable  feats,  these 


SPIRITUALISTIC   SEANCES.  169 

appeared  singularly  similar  to  the  sleight- of- hand  tricks  of 
•ordinary  conjurors,  though  decidedly  less  daring  and 
•original,  and  some  of  their  experiments  unquestionably 
hung  fire.  It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  enumerate  the 
items  of  their  programme,  for  the  identical  list  has  been 
repeated  by  all  similar  exhibitors,  both  at  the  time  and 
since ;  but  I  may  remark  that  most  of  the  work  was  done 
by  more  or  less  clever  guessing,  sometimes  wearisomely 
protracted. 

One  experiment  consisted  in  reading,  through  the  opacity  of 
a  wooden  box  "  securely  locked,"  a  word  written  on  a  folded 
paper  within  it ;  the  promised  result,  however,  was  arrived 
at  only  after  a  series  of  absurdly  palpable  guesses,  during 
which  the  writer  of  the  word  was  pretty  sure,  unconsciously, 
to  betray  himself  and  aiford  some  clue  to  it.  Alexis  would 
begin  by  surmising  it  was  a  word  of  so  many  syllables ; 
sometimes  he  happened  to  be  right  the  first  time  ;  then  he 
would  state  "  he  was  pretty  sure  it  began  with  a  vowel," — 
of  course  if  it  didn't  there  could  be  only  one  alternative, — 
so  he  was  really  getting  on.  I  was  disappointed,  for  I  had 
expected,  if  he  could  see  the  word  at  all,  he  would  see  it  all 
at  once,  but  it  seems  this  was  one  of  the  little  ways  of  the 
fraternity. 

An  incident  which  throws  some  light  on  the  subject 
may  as  well  be  related.  A  friend  of  mine  staying  on  a  visit 
in  London  was  asked  by  his  host  if  he  would  like  to  attend 
a  stance.  "Thank  you,"  said  he,  "to  be  candid,  I  don't 
think  much  of  this  sort  of  pastime,  there  are  so  many  things 
in  London  I  had  rather  bestow  the  time  upon ;  but  don't 
let  me  prevent  you  from  going." 

"  Oh  !  I  shall  go  certainly,"  replied  the  other,  "  for  I  am 
very  curious  to  witness  this  man's  discovery  of  any  word 
a  sceptic  likes  to  write,  seal  up,  and  even  then  hold  at  a 
distance." 

"If  that  is  all,"  said  my  friend,  "I  don't  see  any  reason 
why  I  should  be  present ;  why  shouldn't  I  write  down  a 


170  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

word — '  orchestra '  for  example — seal  it  up  and  give  it  to- 
you ;  if  he  succeeds,  you  will  bring  back  nay  envelope  intact 
with  his  acknowledgment  of  it  written  on  the  outside." 

So  said,  so  done ;  the  envelope  was  sealed  in  three  places 
with  the  coat  of  arms  of  the  writer. 

When  the  friends  met  at  dinner  after  the  seance,  the  host 
put  into  the  hands  of  his  guest  his  envelope  with  the  triple 
seal  as  secure  as  when  it  left  them,  and  he  pointed  with  a 
triumphant  finger  to  the  word  "orchestra"  scored  on  the 
outside  by  the  seer,  adding — •"  I  was  sorry  you  weren't  there- 
to see  how  easily  he  did  it ;  very  wonderful  indeed,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"Now,"  answered  the  unbeliever,  with  difficulty  sup- 
pressing his  mirth,  "  suppose  you  open  it,  and  get  a  second 
proof  of  the  fellow's  cleverness." 

He  did  as  bidden,  and  greater  was  his  surprise  than  before 
to  find  within,  nothing  but  the  word  "  Humbug." 

Having  witnessed  the  mode  of  proceeding  adopted  by 
Alexis,  I  can  give  full  credence  to  this  anecdote.  The  seance 
at  which  I  assisted  lasted  fully  two  hours,  and  I  cannot 
believe  any  one  present  was  converted  by  what  passed. 

Kogers  relates  in  his  diary  that,  when  in  Paris,  he,  toor 
attended  a  seance  of  Alexis,  and  though  he  obtained  from 
this  clever  fellow  a  tolerably  accurate  description  of  his 
house  in  St.  James's  Place,  and  was  somewhat  startled  by 
it,  he  came  away  unconvinced,  for  he  concludes — 

:'  Still  I  cannot  believe  in  clairvoyance,  because  the  thing 
is  impossible  "  (the  italics  are  Rogers' s). 

It  is  quite  possible  that  Alexis  or  his  showman  adroitly 
drew  from  Kogers  himself  the  description  which  Alexis. 
seemed  to  be  supplying,  though  this  explanation  did  not,, 
apparently,  suggest  itself  to  him. 

It  was  some  little  time  after  this,  that  I  was  invited  to  a 
soiree  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in  Brat  on.  Street,  who  had 
engaged  an  American  spiritualist  and  lady-professor,  Mrs. 
Haydon,  for  the  edification  of  the  company.  I  was  led  to 
understand  that  her  terms  were  £25  for  the  evening. 


AN  INDISCREET   SPIRIT.  171 

The  company  may  have  numbered  from  fifty  to  sixty, 
among  whom  I  remember  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Talfourdr 
because  the  former  not  only  took  a  very  critical  view  of  the 
whole  affair,  but  undisguisedly  expressed  his  indignation  at 
an  incident  which  occurred  during  the  evening.  Several 
exhibitions  of  the  powers  of  second-sight  took  place,  and 
then  came  spiritual  manifestations. 

The  spirits  had  been  duly  invoked,  had  been  pronounced 
present,  and  the  company  was  invited  to  consult  them 
through  the  medium :  a  young  girl,  whose  fiance  was  in 
India,  took  it  into  her  head  to  inquire  after  his  well-being ; 
but  unfortunately  the  spirits  were  not  discreet,  and  after  a 
lengthy  series  of  raps,  the  medium  spelt  out  the  terrible 
word  "  killed."  The  young  lady  seems  to  have  been  a 
believer,  for  she  forthwith  screamed  and  fainted  in  the  arms 
of  an  old  gentleman  sitting  next  to  her,  who  seemed  terribly 
embarrassed  to  know  how  to  dispose  of  his  fair  burthen. 
Great  was  the  commotion ;  scent-bottles,  glasses  of  water, 
and  even  of  brandy,  in  an  incredibly  short  time  abounded 
round  the  young  victim  of  her  own  credulous  curiosity,  the 
ladies  naturally  crowded  up  to  her,  offering  her  everything 
except  space  and  air ;  the  gentlemen  stood  in  consternation, 
till  one  of  them  had  the  good  sense  to  open  a  window,  and 
another  suggested  to  the  hostess  to  call  her  maid  in.  When 
this  functionary  appeared  she  sensibly  enough  carried  the 
patient  off  into  another  drawing-room,  and  then  Serjeant- 
Talfourd,  who  had  become  very  red  in  the  face,  gave  Mrs- 
Haydon  what  would  vulgarly  be  called  a  "bit  of  his  mind," 
and  a  very  large  and  bitter  "  bit  "  it  was  ;  but  nobody  suc- 
ceeded in  making  out  how  she  produced  those  raps  which 
Punch ,  not  inaptly,  likened  to  "  phantom  postmen  delivering 
the  dead  letters."  The  table-turning  that  evening,  how- 
ever, succeeded  to  the  universal  satisfaction  of  the  invites. 
The  table  which  so  amiably  lent  itself  to  the  occasion 
was  a  very  large,  ponderous,  rosewood  loo-table,  on  pillar 
and  claw,  and  round  about  it  stood  twelve  persons,  including 


172  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

myself.  Albeit  I  have  never  yet  had  any  reason  to  believe 
in  the  supernatural,  I  cannot  possibly  deny  that  that  table 
began,  very  soon  after  we  had  formed  the  prescribed  chain, 
to  play  the  wildest  pranks ;  its  antics  becoming  more  and 
more  grotesque  and  ridiculous,  as  by  dint  of  reeling  and 
whirling,  it  went,  carrying  us  along  with  it,  from  one  end  of 
the  room  to  the  other — not  even  hesitating  at  the  narrower 
space  between  the  folding-doors — a  length  of  fully  sixty  feet. 

I  am  sorry,  however,  to  leave  incomplete  my  story  of  the 
spirit-statement  as  to  the  young  man  out  in  India  :  a 
burglary  having  taken  place  in  my  friend's  house  shortly 
after — I  don't  mean  even  to  hint  at  the  complicity  of  the 
spirits  who  had  been  invoked  that  night — she  took  so  strong 
a  dislike  to  it  that  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  reside  there, 
after  it.  She  therefore  let  her  house  and  went  abroad,  so 
that  I  never  had  an  opportunity  of  ascertaining  whether  that 
most  injudicious  reply  was  justified  by  the  fact,  or  whether 
it  was  the  malicious  invention  of  a  lying  spirit. 

Robert  Browning  used  to  tell  a  story  of  a  visit  he  paid, 
when  at  Florence,  to  an  old  philosopher  named  Kirkup,  with 
the  object  of  borrowing  a  book  of  him.  He  found  him 
engaged  with  a  female  "  medium  "  apparently  in  a  state 
of  trance,  on  whom,  he  was  practising  experiments. 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  fellowr !  "  said  he,  "  how  glad  I  am  you  are 
•come,  for  I  can  now  practically  demonstrate  to  you  those 
supernatural  facts  which  I  believe  you  still  doubt.  Now  see, 
I  will  desire  this  woman  to  raise  her  arm — an  order  you 
would  give  her  in  vain — and  I  can  make  her  maintain  it 
rigidly  in  that  position  during  as  many  hours  as  I  please." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  after  Browning  had  made 
the  attempt  unsuccessfully,  he  gave  the  command  which 
was  immediately  obeyed.  Browning  exerted  his  strength  to 
move  or  bend  the  limb,  but  it  continued  as  stiff  as  when 
Kirkup  had  fixed  it. 

"  Now,"  said  the  good  old  man,  "  I  will  fetch  your  book." 

His  back  was  hardly  turned,  when  Browning,  who  was 


A   SEANCE   IN   CAPUA. 


examining  some  MSS.  on  the  table,  felt  a  touch  on  his- 
shoulder  and,  turning  round,  saw  the  woman  wink  at  him 
and  immediately  resume  her  attitude  as  Kirkup's  returning 
steps  were  heard.  Comment  is  needless. 

I  remember  seeing  in  the  market-place  at  Capua  an 
amusing  fellow,  who  performed  precisely  the  same  sort  of 
tricks  as  Alexis  ;  but  with  infinitely  greater  fun  and  humour. 
I  can  see  his  bright,  laughing,  black  eyes  and  his  dazzling 
white  teeth,  as  he  and  the  partner  who  assisted  him  played 
off  their  ingenious  tricks  upon  the  merry  gathering  that 
surrounded  them.  It  was  made  up  of  simple  country  folk,. 
visiting  the  unsophisticated  little  town  of  Capua  on  market 
day,  and  struck  aghast  by  the  plausibility  with  which  one  of 
these  dexterous  showmen,  seating  himself  blindfold  in  a 
chair,  audaciously  told  them  little  personal  facts,  which  each 
one  thought  known  only  to  himself.  With  one  or  two 
confederates,  adroitly  dispersed  through  the  crowd,  they 
succeeded  in  establishing  a  firm  belief  among  the  na'ifs  that' 
they  were  supernaturally  endowed. 

The  plan  was  for  one  after  another,  who  wanted  his 
character  given  or  his  fortune  told,  to  come  up  and  stand  in 
front  of  the  blinded  performer,  who,  without  hesitating  or 
guessing,  ran  off  all  he  had  to  say,  not  only  with  ludicrous 
rapidity,  but  with  the  most  humorous  turn  of  phrase. 

The  first  applicant  —  no  doubt  a  confederate  —  approached 
with  the  most  awkward  and  timid  gestures,  as  if  he  shrank 
from  the  publicity  about  to  be  given  to  his  private  circum- 
stances. The  medium,  however,  showed  no  delicacy  in  the 
matter,  and  after  taking  his  hand  in  his,  reported  at  once  : 

"  This  fellow  is  much  older  than  he  admits,  yet  any  one 
can  see  the  absurdity  of  his  conduct  ;  he  is  courting  a  young 
girl  of  sixteen,  named  Kosalia,  who,  naturally,  laughs  at  him 
behind  his  back  ;  but  he  doesn't  know  it.  I  don't  suppose 
you  believe  me,  and  of  course,  I  can't  prove  that  ;  but  if 
anybody  can  make  him  open  his  mouth,  they  can  see  that  I 
speak  the  truth  when  I  assert  that  he  has  but  five  teeth  left.. 


174  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

three  in  front  and  one  on  either  side  to  match  its  fellow." 
Of  course,  the  poor  victim  was  immediately  collared  and 
captured  by  the  crowd ;  one  held  him  down  while  another 
forced  open  his  mouth,  and  loud  was  the  laugh  against  him 
when  the  defective  state  of  his  dental  resources  was  found 
to  have  been  described  so  correctly  as  to  constitute  a 
guarantee  of  the  truth  of  his  private  history.  But  if  some 
were  engaged  in  chaffing  the  old  fellow,  and  in  making 
pungent  remarks  upon  the  vanity  of  his  courtship,  others 
were  ready,  after  this  successful  trial,  to  avail  themselves 
-of  the  powers  of  the  cunning  man,  and  a  soldier  was  next 
•dragged  before  him. 

"  Now,"  cried  the  crowd,  "  tell  us  something  about  this 
rascal.  Who  is  he  ?  What  is  he  ?  and  what  is  lie  going 
to  do? 

"  Quello  ?  quello  e  soldato,"  answered  the  blinded  conjuror, 
with  alacrity,  "  but  he  spends  his  pay  as  fast  as  he  gets  it ; 
•we  won't  say  exactly  how,  but  you  can  judge  for  yourselves, 
for  I  tell  no  tales  of  any  one.  You  have  only  to  look  in  his 
pockets,  and  the  most  you  will  find  in  coin  is  two  bajocchi ; 
but  look  a  little  further,  and  there  will  be  a  pair  of  dice  and 
a  screw  of  tobacco,  also  a  short  pipe  and  a  match  or  two." 

As'  might  be  expected,  the  second  subject  was  searched 
after  the  manner  of  the  first,  with  rude  handling  and 
•uproarious  mirth,  as,  one  after  another,  the  objects  mentioned 
were  extracted  and  exhibited.  One  might  have  spent 
another  hour  there  with  amusement,  for  the  descriptions, 
which  were  all  accurate,  were  also  exceeding  droll.  In  the 
midst  of  it  I  noticed  in  the  crowd  an  honest-looking  peasant- 
woman,  carrying  a  basket  of  provisions,  and  no  doubt  on 
her  way  from  market.  She  observed  all  the  proceedings  with 
the  most  rapt  attention  ;  then,  looking  round,  absorbed,  she 
partly  soliloquized  and  partly  addressed  herself  to  me,  with 
a  dubious  shake  of  the  head  as  she  retreated — "No,  no" 
she  muttered,  "  Questo  non  vale ;  non  c  cosa  buona  ;  dev'  esser 
del  diavolo  ,  .  .  sicuro,  non  e  cosa  buona  !  " 


THE   BERLIN   CONFERENCE.  175 

It  seems  as  if  there  should  be  no  need  to  record  the  details  The  Berlin 
of  an  event  so  remarkable  and  so  recent  as  Lord  Beaconsfield's 
return  from  the  Berlin  Conference,  on  the  18th  of  July,  1878. 
And  yet,  as  a  sight  to  have  seen,  and  a  memory  to  be  retained, 
it  is  impossible  to  pass  over  in  silence  so  interesting  and 
impressive  a  political  incident.  The  heart-stirring  scene 
witnessed  that  day,  with  unanimous  pride,  by  Englishmen 
of  all  classes,  all  creeds,  can  never  be  forgotten  while  they 
live  ;  but  it  is  fitting  that  those  who  shared  in  it  should  do 
their  utmost  to  record  the  impression  it  made  on  themselves, 
and  to  transmit  it  to  their  children,  and  to  such  as  were 
not  spectators  of  this  remarkable  episode  in  the  political 
history  of  Europe. 

The  reception  of  Lord  Beaconsfi eld  and  Lord  Salisbury  on 
their  arrival  at  Charing  Cross  was  a  welcome  absolutely 
unique  of  its  kind ;  as  was  remarked  at  the  time,  the  cheers 
which  greeted  the  Prime  Minister  on  his  triumphant  return 
glorified  with  the  prestige  of  his  success,  had  nothing  in 
common  with  the  shouts  that  meet  an  ordinary  traveller,  be 
he  ever  so  Royal.  The  cries  of  the  assembled  thousands 
were  the  genuine  and  spontaneous  expression  of  a  feeling, 
the  intensity  of  which  seemed  to  communicate  itself  to  those 
to  whom  it  was  addressed.  There  seemed  to  be  but  one 
heart  beating  in  that  vast  multitude,  and  the  effect  was 
overpowering,  when,  to  the  buzz  of  voices,  of  traffic,  of  move- 
ment, suddenly  succeeded  an  awed  hush — a  so-to-speak 
startling  silence,  as  the  sound  of  far-off  cheers  gathering 
as  they  approached,  announced  the  arrival  of  the  eagerly- 
expected  train ;  then,  as  if  by  one  spontaneous  outburst, 
arose  a  roar  of  deafening  and  prolonged  shouts,  reinforced 
with  a  yet  heartier  and  united  cry  of  welcome  as  the  carriage 
left  the  station  and  drove  between  the  living  hedges  which 
lined  the  road. 

The  day  was  bright,  the  carriage  was  an  open  one,  and  as 
it  made  its  way  through  that  dense  crowd,  the  figure  of  the 
Premier  was  visible  to  all,  his  features,  and  the  dignity  of  his 


176  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

attitude  betokening  a  noble  and  manly  emotion  as  he  grace- 
fully acknowledged  the  merited  homage  of  the  people,  to 
whom  he  was  bringing  "  Peace  with  honour." 

Lord  Campbell  was  often  right  in  his  estimate  of  character, 
and  could  detect  latent  ability  with  much  shrewdness.  In 
1851  he  wrote  : — 

"  Disraeli  is  the  rising  man.  A  few  years  ago  he  was  an 
attorney's  clerk  ;  *  now  he  is  the  leader  of  the  landed  interest, 
and,  for  anything  I  know,  the  Jew  boy  may  cut  out  the  heir 
of  the  Stanleys,  and  perhaps  even,  one  day,  be  Prime 
Minister  himself,  on  high  Tory  and  Protectionist  principles, 
after  having  been  a  violent  radical,  and  having  boxed  the 
political  compass  round  and  round.  He  is  the  pleasantest 
speaker  to  listen  to,  now  living,  and  becomes  rather  a 
favourite  with  the  House." 

One  cannot  help  regretting  that  Lord  Campbell  did  not 
live  to  see  Disraeli  become  Lord  Beaconsfield,  and  to  witness 
the  zenith  of  his  glory. 

Lord  Beaconsfield's  is  a  case  in  which  Lord  Campbell's 
opinion  shows  considerable  depth  of  observation  and  pene- 
tration ;  for,  to  the  cominun  des  mortels  who  knew  young 
Disraeli,  the  wise  saw  of  Archilochus — apxh  avBpa  Se/^et — 
would  have  appeared  to  be  at  fault ;  few  would  have  ventured 
to  predict — notwithstanding  that  startling  peroration  to  his 
maiden  speech,  which  must  have  come  back  later  to  the 
memory  of  so  many — that  the  be-ringed,  be-ringletted,  be- 
chained,  and  generally  bedizened  youth  who  produced  him- 
self at  Gore  House  in  green  velvet  pantaloons  and  a  waist- 
coat the  embroideiy  on  which  surpassed  in  richness  that  of 
d'Orsay  himself — would,  during  his  later  years,  command 
the  respect  and  attention  of  the  world  by  the  calm  self- 
possession  and  the  dignity  with  which  he  maintained  his 
principles  and  upheld  the  honour  of  his  office. 

Part  of  Benjamin  Disraeli's  early  years  were  passed  at  a 


*  This  is  incorrect,  joung  Disraeli  was  apprenticed,  not  articled,  to  an  attorney ; 
his  father  wishing  him  to  acquire  a  practical  initiation  into  that  business. 


LORD  BEACONSFIELD'S  BAPTISM.  177 

boarding-school  at  Walthamstow,  where  a  first-cousin  of  my 
own  had  been  temporarily  placed.  From  him  I  used  to 
hear  that  the  boy,  who  was  subsequently  to  become  so  urbane 
and  courtier-like,  was  at  that  time  such  an  overbearing  little 
prig  that  he  made  himself  most  unpopular  with  his  school- 
fellows, and  naturally  became  their  butt,  every  kind  of 
schoolboy  trick  being  played  off  on  him.  One,  of  which 
my  cousin  confessed  himself  the  inventor,  though  repre- 
hensible in  common  with  all  practical  jokes,  had  the  merit 
of  ingenuity. 

It  seems  that  the  young  man,  even  in  these  early  days, 
gave  indications  of  the  foppishness  of  his  middle  life,  and 
used,  on  occasion,  to  appear  in  gay-coloured  pantaloons, 
with  Hessian  boots.  Accordingly,  just  before  he  donned 
them  one  day,  some  cobbler's  wax  was  neatly  plastered 
over  the  inner  soles  of  the  latter,  and  when  the  time  came 
for  removing  them,  the  other  boys  found  a  fine  opportunity 
for  taunting  the  struggling  wearer  with  his  vanity,  and  sug- 
gesting that  it  would  be  a  great  pity  ever  to  take  them  off. 

Disraeli  seems  to  have  been  brought  up,  to  the  age  of 
twelve,  without  any  definite  religious  ideas,  nor  did  he,  or 
perhaps  even  his  father,  know,  under  what  denomination  he 
could  be  classed  :  his  father  appears  to  have  belonged  to  a 
Jittle  sect  of  his  own,  being  neither  a  Jew  nor  a  Christian. 
Literary  tastes  brought  together  the  elder  Disraeli  and 
Rogers,  and  the  latter  (though  by  no  means  straight-laced  in 
the  matter  of  morality,  notwithstanding  that  his  poetry  is 
so  pure)  not  only  suggested  that  young  Benjamin  should  be 
baptized,  but  got  the  ceremony  performed,  and  stood  god- 
father to  him.  The  deed  was  done  at  St.  Andrew's,  Hol- 
'born,  on  the  31st  of  July,  1817.  The  entry  may  be  seen  in 
the  parish  register,  where  he  is  stated  to  have  been  then 
twelve  years  of  age,  and  "the  son  of  Isaac  Disraeli  and 
Maria  Basevi."  A  Mrs.  Ellis  was  his  godmother. 


.VOL.    I.  13 


SOCIAL  AND  LITERARY  CELEBRITIES. 


"  "Tis  strange,  the  shortest  letter  which  man  uses, 
Instead  of  speech,  may  form  a  lasting  link 

Of  ages ;  to  what  straits  old  Time  reduces 
Frail  man,  when  paper — e'en  a  rag  like  this, 
Survives  himself,  his  tomb,  and  all  that's  his  ! 

And  when  his  hones  are  dust,  his  grave,  a  blank, 

His  station,  generation,  e'en  his  nation, 
Become  a  thing,  or  no  thing  save  to  rank 

In  chronological  commemoration  ; 
Some  dull  MS.,  oblivion  long  has  sank, 

Or  graven  stone  found  in  a  barrack's  station, 
In  digging  the  foundation  of  a  closet, 
May  turn  his  name  up,  as  a  rare  deposit." — "  DON  JUAN. 


"  Sandford 
and  Merton.' 


CHAPTER  III. 

SOCIAL  AND  LITERABY  CELEBRITIES. 

"...  the  kings 

"Whose  hosts  are  thoughts,  whose  realm  the  human  mind, 
"Who  out  of  words  evoke  the  souls  of  things, 

And  shape  the  lofty  drama  of  mankind." — BOLWEB. 

"  Hactenus  annorum  comites  elementa  meornm 
Et  memini  et  merninisse  juvat." — STATIUS. 

AMONG  authors  of  the  early  part  of  the  century  there  is  Thomas  Day, 
scarcely  an  individual  whose  life  presents  a  series  of  a 
more   interesting   and  picturesque  incidents  than   that   of 
Thomas  Day,  the  author  of  Sandford  and  Merton.     Though 
before   my  time,  I  have   heard   so   much  of  this   strange 
individual  from  my  old  friend,  Mrs.  Win.  Gibbons  (Maria 
Edge  worth's  niece),  that  I  seem  almost  to  have  known  him. 

Day  was  a  most  eccentric  character,  but  all  his  eccentri- 
cities were  amiable  and  practically  philanthropic ;  if  an  ex- 
emplification of  absolute  "  altruism  "  wrere  wanted,  no  better 
instance  of  it  could  be  pointed  out.  Day  was  the  intimate 
friend  of  Maria  Edgeworth's  father,  Eichard  Lovell 
Edgeworth,  who  not  only  entertained  for  him  the  warmest 
friendship,  but  declared  him  to  be  the  most  perfect  human 
being  who  ever  lived. 

Though  Day  had  a  handsome  face,  his  figure  did  not 
correspond  with  it  ;  he  walked  badly,  held  himself  worse, 
and  was  altogether  unprepossessing  in  appearance.  He  had 
idiosyncratic  ideas  about  women,  especially  as  wives,  and 
after  an  early  disappointment,  finding  none  conformable  to 
his  notions,  set  himself  to  the  delusive  task  of  forming  one 
to  his  own  liking.  With  this  view  he  went  to  Shrews- 


182 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


bury — the  name  does  not  suggest  it  as  a  good  place  to 
find  a  wife ;  but  let  that  pass — from  an  orphanage  there, 
he  selected  a  young  girl,  whom  he  judged  fit  to  be  ex- 
perimented on.  But,  as  he  was  a  man  of  resources,  in 
order  to  have  two  strings  to  his  bow,  he  also  picked  out 
another  in  a  London  pauper  institution.  One  was  fair, 
the  other  dark,  their  ages  the  same  —  about  ten  years 
old.  One  he  called  Sabrina  Sydney  (after  Algernon 
Sydney),  the  other,  Lucretia.  These  two  children  he  pro- 
ceeded to  bring  up  together.  He  travelled  with  them,  took 


THOMAS  DAT. 

them  to  Lyons,  where  he  spent  a  great  deal  of  money,  judi- 
ciously as  well  as  liberally,  in  assisting  the  needy.  Thence 
he  went  to  Avignon,  where  he  thought  to  settle,  and  carry 
on  the  education  of  the  children.  But  they  proved  more 
troublesome  than  he  expected;  they  quarrelled  together, 
and  also  set  themselves  against  learning  even  the  French 
language,  so  that  the  task  he  had  set  himself  proved  a  diffi- 
cult one.  As  he  could  not  marry  both,  his  intention  was  to 
choose  the  one  who  lent  herself  the  more  readily  to  his  plans 
of  education,  and  to  provide  for  the  other.  After  nursing 


THOMAS  DAY.  183 


them  through  the  measles,  and  saving  their  lives  when  upset 
in  a  boat  on  the  river,  he  was  fain  to  confess  to  himself  the 
improbability  of  reaping  any  reward  from  his  labours. 

Lucretia  turned  out  so  hopelessly  untrainable  that  he  had 
to  give  her  up,  but  put  her  to  school  at  Avignon,  where  he 
left  her,  afterwards  apprenticing  her  to  a  milliner,  and 
ultimately  portioning  and  marrying  her  to  a  French  hosier. 

Having  returned  to  England  with  Sabrina,  he  began  upon 
her  a  course  of  practical  experiments,  destined  to  discover 
and  prove  her  suitability  for  the  life  he  intended  his  wife 
should  lead.  To  ascertain  whether  she  was  possessed  of 
courage,  fortitude,  and  philosophical  indifference  to  suffering, 
he  dropped  hot  sealing-wax  on  her  arms,  fired  off  pistols 
suddenly  in  her  hearing,  woke  her  up  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  and  in  short,  invented  the  most  ingenious  tricks  to 
arrive  at  the  real  value  of  her  character. 

Unfortunately  she  was  not  made  of  the  stuff  required  for 
accepting  this  kind  of  treatment,  against  which  she  finally 
rebelled  so  violently  that  he  had  no  choice  but  to  abandon 
his  benevolent  designs  upon  her,  and  she  too  was  packed  off 
to  a  boarding-school.  A  friend  of  Day's,  Dr.  Bicknell,  who 
used  to  frequent  his  house,  fell  in  love  with  her,  and  Day, 
who  always  behaved  handsomely,  portioned  her  off,  as  he 
had  his  other  adopted  child,  and  she  married  his  friend,  to 
whom  she  made  a  very  good  wife.  After  Bicknell's  death, 
Sabrina  was  engaged  as  housekeeper,  or  matron,  at  Dr. 
Barney's  well-known  school  at  Groom's  Hill,  where  she 
mothered  the  boys  with  conscientious  care,  and  became  a 
great  favourite  with  them  and  their  parents. 

Meantime,  Day,  who  was  bent  on  matrimony  notwith- 
standing these  and  other  failures,  and  found  he  could  not  enter 
that  holy  state  on  his  own  terms,  made  the  acquaintance 
of  the  two  beautiful  Misses  Sneyd — Honora  and  Elizabeth. 
My  friend,  Mrs.  Gibbons,  has  two  rare  and  finely  executed 
Wedgwood  portraits  of  these  two  girls.  Day  did  his  best  to 
win  Honora,  who,  however,  treated  him  with  utter  disdain. 


184  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTURY. 

He  then  transferred  his  addresses  to  Elizabeth,  but  does  not 
seem  to  have  understood  the  full  meaning  of  the  rebuff  with 
which  she  dismissed  him  to  mend  his  manners  and  appear- 
ance, and  taking  her  at  the  foot  of  the  letter,  set  off  for 
Paris,  where  he  underwent  a  severe  physical  training  and 
drilling,  learnt  fencing  and  dancing,  and  came  back  quite 
trim,  expecting  to  be  rewarded  for  his  devotedness.  Alas  1 
Elizabeth  was  as  saucy  as  her  sister ;  she  remained  obdu- 
rate, tossing  her  pretty  head,  and  cruelly  telling  him  with 
a  contemptuous  laugh,  that  "  she  thought,  on  the  whole,  the 
blackguard  was  less  objectionable  than  the  fine  gentleman.'" 

Day  must  have  had  considerable  elasticity  of  feeling,  for,, 
after  a  time — spent  wholly  in  philanthropic  works,  and  the 
practice  of  the  severest  self-denial — he  met  with  another 
lady,  by  name  Esther  Mimes,  who  became  so  devotedly 
attached  to  him,  that  after  two  years'  acquaintance,  she  not 
only  married  him,  but  consented  to  share  his  self-imposed 
privations,  and  to  join  in  carrying  out  his  abnormal  ideas. 
His  plan  was  to  live  in  the  simplest  way,  entirely  sequestered 
from  society,  to  allow  himself — and  his  wife! — no  luxuries, 
and  to  dispense  entirely  with  servants :  in  this  he  behaved 
better  than  Carlyle,  for  if  the  latter  made  his  wife  supplement 
the  labours  of  their  single  domestic,  the  former,  at  all  events, 
shared  with  his,  the  household  work.  If  there  was  any  rare 
question  as  to  spending  more  money  than  usual,  Day  came 
down  with  his  veto,  "  How  can  we  allow  ourselves  luxuries,"  he 
would  say,  "  when  we  know  how  many  people  are  starving?'* 

He  bought  an  unfinished  house  at  Abridge,  in  Essex,  and 
astonished  the  builder  he  employed  to  complete  it,  by  making 
him  construct  the  walls  first,  and  then  knock  out  the  window 
openings.  Here,  he  and  his  wife  made  themselves  the  friends 
and  benefactors  of  the  needy,  taking  great  pains  to  bestow 
their  bounty  where  they  had  made  sure  it  ought  to  be  given. 

The  affection  of  Day's  wife  for  this  strange  husband  was 
boundless,  and  she  never  recovered  from  the  grief  occasioned 
her  by  his  death.  His  mother,  or  rather  step-mother,  was. 


THOMAS  DAY.  185 


still  living,  and  at  no  great  distance,  and  Day  frequently 
visited  her.  One  day,  he  started  to  ride  over  to  see  her, 
mounting  an  unbroken  colt — in  conformity  with  his  theory 
that  it  was  contrary  to  nature  to  break  in  a  horse — and  great 
was  the  shock  experienced  by  his  wife,  when,  some  hours 
after  he  had  left  her,  the  horse  returned  without  him.  Search 
was  at  once  made,  and  his  body  was  found  quite  dead  beside 
the  road.  Mrs.  Day  took  her  loss  so  sincerely  to  heart  that 
she  declared  she  would  never  again  see  the  light,  and,  like 
Queen  Louise  de  Vaudemont,  shut  herself  up  in  a  darkened 
room,  where  she  died  two  years  after,  in  1791. 

Day  was  well  known  to  the  last,  if  not  to  the  rising,, 
generation  of  schoolboys,  by  his  popular  Sandford  and 
Merton.  J.  J.  Eousseau  had,  about  that  time,  turned,  one 
way  or  the  other,  the  heads  of  all  educationists  by  his  Emile 
et  Sophie,  and  so  great  was  Kichard  Edgeworth's  admiration 
for  his  system,  that  he  brought  up  his  eldest  son  on  the 
principles  there  advocated  ;  the  practical  result  cannot  be 
considered  in  this  case  to  have  proved  encouraging. 

Day's  illustrative  story  was  originally  intended  to  be  a 
part  of  Maria  Edgeworth's  Harry  and  Lucy  Series,  but  it 
grew  to  the  dimensions  of  a  separate  work,  and  he  published 
it  independently. 

The  detail  of  this  singular  man's  life  wrould  fill  a  volume, 
and  the  phases  of  his  character  are  all  so  original,  and  some 
so  justifiable,  that  they  form  a  by  no  means  uninteresting 
study.  He  was  remarkable  for  justice  and  humanity,  and  a 
merciful  consideration  for  animals ;  nor  would  he  allow  an 
insect  to  be  killed  unnecessarily.  Sir  William  Jones  was 
among  his  admirers  and  friends.  One  day,  when  they  were 
breakfasting  together,  a  spider  suddenly  appeared  on  the  table. 

u  Kill  that  spider  !  kill  that  spider  !  "  said  Sir  William. 

"No,"  said  Day,  "I  shouldn't  feel  justified  in  killing  a 
harmless  insect.  A  lawyer  is  much  more  objectionable  than 
a  spider,  yet  you  wouldn't  like  to  hear  any  one  call  out,  '  Kill 
that  Sir  William  Jones  !  kill  that  Sir  William  Jones  !  '" 


186  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

Day,  who  had  much  common  sense,  wrote  several  political 
pamphlets  ;  among  other  public,  also  national,  errors,  he 
denounced  the  inconsistency  of  the  Americans  in  blowing 
the  trumpet  of  freedom,  and  boasting  of  their  independence, 
while  practically  encouraging  the  servitude  of  a  whole  race, 
and  enriching  themselves  by  slave  labour. 

^J  ^ner  used  to  tell  amusing  stories  of  a  tour  he  made 
Twiss,'<  The  m  the  North  of  England  with  Eichard  Twiss,  known  as  "  The 

Traveller."  ° 

Traveller,"  though  it  does  not  appear  that,  besides  a  trip  to 
Ireland,  he  carried  his  steps  anywhither  but  to  Spain  and 
Portugal.  Still,  as  he  lived  rather  before  the  days  when  the 
"  grand  tour"  was  considered  an  essential  item  in  every 
gentleman's  education,  this  modicum,  which  seems  so  meagre, 
now  that  every  butterman  has  been  "  personally  conducted  " 
round  the  world,  apparently  sufficed  to  entitle  him  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  a  "  traveller. ' '  Moreover,  he  published  his  travels ; 
though  the  history  of  one  of  his  journeys,  that  in  Ireland, 
was  not  so  successful  a  volume  as  the  others.  Eichard  Twiss 
was  a  wit  and  a  scholar,  and  he  had  a  way  of  telling  stories 
and  making  jokes  which  was  found  very  amusing  in  society. 
But  he  was  an  original,  and  set  conventionality  and  the  world 
at  defiance,  doing  whatever  it  pleased  him  to  do,  and  in  a 
way  of  his  own,  which  was  generally  very  unlike  the  ways 
of  the  majority.  His  travels  in  Spain,  which  he  published, 
were  very  interesting,  for  he  observed  much,  and  described 
cleverly.  This  volume  was  illustrated,  and  contained  one 
plate  of  such  great  merit,  descriptive  of  a  bull-fight,  that 
numbers  of  copies  sold  chiefly  on  its  account.  Ultimately 
the  book  became  very  scarce. 

Eichard  Twiss  was  the  elder  son  of  a  wealthy  Dutch 
merchant  ;  his  younger  brother's  name  was  Francis,  and 
though  also  eccentric,  he  was  much  the  more  amiable  of 
the  two.  Eichard  was  a  practised  chess-player,  and  like 
Philidor,  could  play  two  or  three  games  at  once  ;  but  that 
also  has  ceased  to  be  a  feat.  He  and  my  father  constantly 
played  together,  and  Twiss's  book  on  chess  was  long  a 


JAMES  AND  HORACE    SMITH.  187 

recognized  authority  on  the  game.  Twiss  was  one  of  Dr. 
Kitchiner's  intimates,  and  his  gifts  as  a  raconteur  were 
appreciated  at  the  doctor's  recherches  dinner  and  supper 
parties,  which  should  properly  have  been  styled  conversazione- 
banquets. 

Among  my  father's  literary  friends  of  this  period  were  James  and 
James  and  Horace  Smith,  and  I  remember,  when  a  child,  smith6 
being  taken  to  the  house  of  the  latter  at  Brighton,  I  think 
in  Cavendish  Place.     This  visit  would  probably  have  by  this 
time  escaped  my  memory  had  it  not  been  for  the  curious 
conversation  that  passed  on  the  occasion.     The  subject  of 
it  was  one  of  those  historical  puzzles  which  give  rise  to  so 
much  controversy,  and  although  they  occasionally  seem  to 
approach  a  solution,  always  remain  equally  distant  there- 
from. 

This  was  the  mystery  as  to  the  veritable  burial-place  of 
Oliver  Cromwell,  and  the  authenticity  of  the  head,  supposed 
to  be  his,  which  under  that  idea,  was,  after  the  Kestoration, 
torn  from  the  coffin  and  spiked,  along  with  those  of  Ireton 
and  Bradshaw,  over  the  gates  of  Westminster  Hall,  making 
that  spot  for  a  time  the  "  Golgotha  of  Westminster,"  the 
rest  of  their  bones  were  ignominiously  shovelled  into  a  pit 
dug  for  their  reception  under  the  gallows  at  Tyburn. 

Horace  Smith,  I  remember,  altogether  repudiated  the 
theory  that  the  coffin  attributed  to  Cromwell  had  contained 
a  corpse  belonging  to  somebody  else,  and  maintained  his 
belief  that  a  head  then  in  the  possession  of  a  friend  of  his — 
a  surgeon — was  no  other  than  the  caput  mortuum  of  the 
regicide.  He  gave  entire  credence  to  the  story  of  its 
having  been  blown  down  one  night  during  a  storm,  rescued 
by  the  sentinel  at  Westminster  Hall  gate,  and,  notwith- 
standing the  risk  of  committing  a  doubly  capital  offence, 
made  capital  of  by  that  functionary,  who  sold  it  to  some 
near  relatives  of  Cromwell's. 

From  these  purchasers,  the  head — whether  Cromwell's  or 
not — having  been  religiously  preserved,  descended  to  an  old 


188  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

lady,  who,  not  caring  to  keep  the  unsavoury  relic  in  her 
house,  was  glad  to  part  with  it  to  the  medical  bidder,  in 
whose  keeping  Horace  Smith  had  seen  and  examined  it, 
declaring  himself  perfectly  satisfied  as  to  its  identity. 

It  is  not,  I  believe,  unusual  for  the  beard  to  continue  to 
grow  after  death,  and  that  had  been  the  case  with  this  party, 
whose  beard  was  of  a  chestnut  shade,  as  was  that  of  Crom- 
well. However,  Cromwell's  face  was  so  distinctly  marked 
by  a  large  wart  on  the  forehead  that  there  need  have  been 
no  doubt  about  the  matter.  An  authentic  portrait  of  the 
"Protector,"  now  in  the  possession  of  Madame  Parkes- 
Belloc,  defines  this  peculiarity  very  distinctly. 

There  are  many  who  believe,  on  historical  evidence  of 
their  own  searching  out,  that  Cromwell  left  a  Will,  de- 
signating the  spot  in  which  he  desired  to  be  interred,  and 
deprecating  his  burial  within  Westminster  Abbey ;  and 
these  maintain  the  theory  that  a  substitute,  who  probably 
was  not  consulted,  wras  found  to  personate  Cromwell's  corpse, 
and  to  fill  the  coffin  supposed  by  the  general  public  to  protect 
the  remains  of  the  "Protector."  Some  say  that  Cromwell 
was  temporarily  interred  beneath  the  spot  w7here  now  stands, 
a  dovecote  in  Red  Lion  Square. 

Both  the  brothers  Smith  resided  frequently  in  Brighton, 
but  Horace  ultimately  chose  Versailles  as  his  dwelling- 
place.  James  Smith  used  to  quote  the  amusing  remark  of  a 
country-parson  who  had  read  The  Rejected  Addresses,  to  the 
effect  that  "  He  did  not  see  why  they,  should  have  been 
rejected ;  in  fact,  he  thought  some  of  them  very  good  !  " 

The  two  Smiths  wrere  remarkable  for  the  pungency  and 
spontaneity  of  their  dry  humour.  Kenny  used  to  say  that 
James  Smith  wras  fond  of  chaffing  Tom  Hill,  asserted  by 
some  to  be  the  original  taken  by  Poole  for  his  Paul  Pry* 
He  was  wont  to  affirm  of  Tom  Hill,  that  "  if  you  could  but 


*  Michael  Angelo  Taylor,  who  had  a  very  similar  reputation,  has  been  said  by 
others  to  have  served  as  the  model  of  this  popular  character. 


LITERARY  SALON  OF  HORACE  SMITH'S  DAUGHTERS.  189 

go  and  stand  beside  '  Tom '  some  day  at  Charing  Cross,  he 
would  tell  you  the  pedigree  and  history  of  every  individual 
who  passed;  "  adding,  perhaps  not  without  reason,  "  It  was 
wonderful  how  much  better  acquainted  Hill  was,  with  every 
one  else's  business  than  he  was  with  his  own." 

Horace  Smith's  two  daughters  are  still  living,  and  in 
Brighton.  Their  very  pleasant  house  is  frequented  by  the 
best  and  most  interesting  kind  of  society,  affording  what 
may  be  called  a  salon,  that  rare  relic  of  ancient  literary 
taste  and  cementer  of  literary  intimacies — a  salon  which  the 
cultivated  consider  it  a  privilege  to  frequent  and  where  these 
ladies  receive  with  a  grace  and  geniality  which  their  guests 
know  how  to  appreciate.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that 
gatherings  of  this  description  seem  to  be  becoming  rarer 
every  year ;  for,  as  death  disturbs  them,  society  seems  to 
lack  the  spirit,  or  the  good  taste,  or  the  ability  to  replace 
them. 

Two  other  ladies,  sisters,  whom  I  knew,  the  Misses 
Weston  (descendants  of  an  old  Cheshire  family),  received 
also  in  this  way,  when  in  London  ;  gathering  round  them  a 
genial  and  interesting  circle  of  more  or  less  literary  friends. 
Crabb  Robinson,  who  mentions  their  house  occasionally  in 
his  diary,  was  a  welcome  frequenter  of  their  reunions.  To 
myself  it  was  always  a  pleasure  to  find  him  there,  and  I 
think  it  was  somewhat  unfairly  that  he  acquired  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  "  a  great  talker."  When  a  man  has  something 
to  say  and  says  it  well,  few  can  object  to  him  as  a  "  talker," 
and  for  my  own  part  I  am  always  content  under  such  cir- 
cumstances to  be  the  listener.  Crabb  Robinson  could  talk 
round  about  almost  every  subject  worth  considering,  and 
generally  very  much  to  the  purpose ;  in  the  company,  there- 
fore, of  this  genial  and  observant  old  gentleman,  who  had 
seen  much  of  life,  the  commun  des  mortels  had  more  to 
learn  than  to  impart.  He  had  known  many  people  worth 
knowing,  and  enjoyed  the  intimacy  of  most  of  the  celebrities 
of  his  day ;  and,  though  modest  in  the  expression  of  his 


190  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

opinion,  he  was  110  mean  authority  on  matters  within  most 
departments  of  art ;  painters  of  note  had  invited  him  to 
their  studios,  and  he  was  a  much  finer  connoisseur  than  he 
was  willing  to  admit :  of  music  he  professed  to  know  but 
little,  yet,  being  a  man  of  cultivated  tastes,  it  was  only  good 
music  that  pleased  him,  so  that  his  appreciations  of  vocal 
and  instrumental  artists  were  generally  accurate  and  sugges- 
tive. I  often  found  him  enthusiastic  when  speaking  of  fine 
voices  and  real  musical  genius,  while  of  dramatic  excellence 
he  was  a  genuine  admirer  and  a  trustworthy  judge,  without 
any  pretensions  to  professional  criticism. 

Crabb  Kobinson's  admiration  of  Braham  was  as  intense  as 
it  was  just,  and  on  this  subject  we  were  in  perfect  accord. 
As  to  his  acting,  Mr.  Eobinson  differed  essentially  in  opinion 
from  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  he  was  so  carried  away  by  the 
charm,  of  that  impassioned  singer's  wonderful  voice  and  his 
histrionic  employment  of  it,  that  he  used  to  declare  that 
when  Braham  sang,  he  acted  without  an  effort,  and  as  if 
unconsciously  impelled  by  the  feeling  he  threw  into  the 
music.  He  was  once,  he  told  me,  immensely  amused  by  a 
song  of  Liston's,  in  which  that  king  of  mimics  took  off 
Braham;  this  must  have  been  worth  hearing.  Crabb  Eobin- 
son agreed  with  me  that  even  when  Braham's  exquisite  voice 
had  undergone  the  withering  effects  of  age,  his  singing  still 
.retained  its  inexplicable  but  undeniable  fascination.  He 
was  an  equally  hearty  admirer  of  Malibran,  whom  he  had 
heard  in  1833,  when  that  matchless  artist  was  in  her  prime, 
and  he  spoke  rapturously  of  the  perfection  of  her  singing 
and  acting  in  the  Sonnambula  at  Drury  Lane,  which  I  also 
well  remembered. 

Crabb  Eobinson  was  fond  of  philosophical  and  metaphysical 
discussions,  and  appeared  to  have  read  and  thought  more  or 
less  deeply  on  the  subject  of  religious  belief.  His  reflections 
had  apparently  brought  him  to  that  state  of  mind  which  at 
the  present  time  we  should  describe  as  "  agnosticism."  I 
remember  once,  during  a  discussion  on  the  probabilities  of  a 


CBABB  BOBINSON.  191 

future  state,  his  winding  up  with  the  remark,  "  If  there's 
not  another  world,  this  one's  a  miserable  failure." 

I  am  pretty  sure  it  was  from  Crabb  Eobinson  that  Miss 
Weston  told  me  she  heard  the  curious  story  of  Judge  Buller's 
supposed  death,  from,  I  think,  small-pox.  At  all  events  it 
was  some  dangerous  epidemic,  and  it  was  to  the  fear  of 
contagion,  that  was  attributed  the  unseemly  haste  with  which 
he  was  not  only  laid  out,  but  put  into  his  coffin.  The  Judge 
was  engaged  to  be  married  to  a  young  lady  who,  living  away 
from  the  metropolis,  was  immediately  communicated  with, 
being  informed  at  the  same  time  that  the  funeral  could  not 
be  delayed.  She  started  at  once  for  London,  asserting  her 
conviction  that  her  fiance  was  not  dead.  On  her  arrival 
she  lost  not  a  moment  in  having  him  replaced  in  a  warm 
bed  and  in  applying  restoratives.  No  means  were  left 
untried,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  her  prognostics  were 
justified,  and  the  Judge  showed  signs  of  life.  He  ultimately 
recovered  completely,  and  the  pair  were  united  and  "lived 
happy  ever  after." 

Crabb  Robinson's  affection  for  Charles  and  Mary  Lamb 
and  his  admiration  for  Wordsworth  seemed  almost  ex- 
aggerated. His  friendship  for  the  two  former  led  his  steps 
very  frequently  to  the  homely  little  dwelling  at  Edmonton, 
then  called  "  Bay  Cottage,"  where  the  brother  and  sister 
lived  together  whenever  the  latter  needed  not  the  restraints 
of  her  alternative  home,  and  he  continued  throughout  their 
respective  lives  the  sincere  and  attached  friend  of  both. 

This  unpretending  little  tenement  is  still  to  be  seen  in 
Church  Street,  Edmonton,  and  is  now  inscribed  LAMB'S 
COTTAGE  instead  of  Bay  Cottage  as  in  the  time  of  the  Larnbs. 
A  small  square  garden  divides  it  from  the  road,  and  it  is 
almost  crushed  out  of  notice  by  the  two  taller  houses  which 
stand  one  on  each  side  of  it,  while  the  trees  from  their 
gardens  cast  a  perpetual  shadow  over  it,  and  give  it  an 
expression  of  sadness  in  accordance  with  its  melancholy 
traditions. 


192  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

Only  a  few  hundred  yards  further  on,  within  the  pic- 
turesque old  churchyard,  is  the  humble  grave  in  which  are 
now  reunited  the  remains  of  this  attached  brother  and 
sister.  It  is  not  very  easy  to  find  it,  so  closely  built  round 
is  it  with  more  pretentious  monuments  ;  it  is  now  rather 
better  cared  for  than  formerly,  for  I  have  seen  the  headstone 
that  bears  the  record  of  the  two  burials  (ten  years  apart) 
so  moss-grown  that  "  Carey's  pompous  incoherent  epitaph  " 
— well-meaning,  perhaps,  but  certainly  un-meaning — could 
scarcely  be  deciphered. 

Lamb  has  left  a  character  deserving  of  all  admiration. 
He  willingly,  cheerfully,  and  most  unostentatiously,  made 
the  sacrifice  of  his  life  to  domestic  duty ;  his  heroism 
was  none  the  less  brave  that  it  was  not  his  lot  to  display  it 
in  a  conspicuous  field  of  glory,  and  much  honour  should  be 
accorded  to  him  for  the  simplicity  and  fidelity  with  which 
he  followed  out  a  noble  course.  As  to  his  literary  and 
intellectual  merits,  there  may,  I  think,  be  two  opinions,  and 
it  may  be  permitted  to  doubt  whether,  now  they  are  judged 
by  comparison  with  later  work  of  the  same  character,  they 
have  not  been  somewhat  over-rated,  and  especially  whether 
his  humour  is  such  as  to  deserve  the  unbounded  encomiums 
it  has  sometimes  evoked ;  many  of  his  jokes,  it  must  be 
admitted,  were  much  tires  par  les  cheveux  :  the  wonder,  how- 
ever, is  that  leading  such  a  life  as  his,  he  should  have  been 
able  to  joke  at  all ! 

Wordsworth.  Crabb  Eobinson's  admiration  for  Wordsworth  was  nothing 
short  of  enthusiastic.  He  went  so  far  as  to  carry  about  in 
his  pocket,  a  volume  of  this  gentleman's  works,  and  on  the 
slightest,  and  most  unintentional,  provocation,  he  would 
draw  it  out,  open  it,  and  pour  into — often  unwilling — ears, 
streams  of  the  "  Lake  poet's  "  watery  effusions.  He  read 
well,  and  being  desirous  to  induce  others  to  share  his 
own  sentiments  on  the  subject,  he  made  the  most  of  his 
material;  but,  once  the  floodgates  were  open,  the  torrent 
rolled  headlong  on,  everything  giving  way  before  it. 


SAMUEL  ROGERS.  193 


Crabb  Eobinson  liked  to  believe  that  "in  his  heart," 
Byron  admired  Wordsworth  ;  if  so,  he  took  a  strange 
way  to  show  it.  It  is  possible  that  his  criticisms  were  not 
really  intended  to  be  so  withering  as  they  appear,  but  we 
can  quite  understand  that  he  was  unwilling  to  retract 
them,  because  they  were  so  happily  expressed ;  perhaps, 
therefore,  it  was  not  altogether  to  an  unrelenting  antipathy 
against  the  object  of  them  that  the  world  owes  the  en- 
joyment of  those  pungent  remarks  which  sparkle  ever  and 
anon  through  some  of  the  poet's  pages. 

Grabb  Kobinson,  as  correspondent  of  The  Times,  in  Spain, 
and  also  subsequently,  missed  no  opportunity  of  showing  up 
the  littleness  of  Napoleon's  insatiable  ambition  :  this  was  a 
source  of  great  annoyance  to  the  Imperial  adventurer,  who, 
according  to  the  assertions  of  the  object  of  his  displeasure, 
"  set  a  price  upon  his  head." 

Mr.  Robinson  was  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  Banker-  Samuel 
poet,  Samuel  Rogers,  and  was  a  frequent  guest  at  those 
famous  breakfasts  in  St.  James's  Place  made  so  interesting 
by  their  refined  and  hospitable  organizer  :  and  who  was 
there  who  did  not  appreciate  them  ?  Several  tried  to 
imitate  these  gatherings,  but  they  always  remained  un- 
rivalled. 

There  seems  to  be  a  tacit  understanding  among  the 
biographers  and  memorializers  of  Samuel  Rogers  that  he  is 
to  descend  to  posterity — like  so  many  others — as  "  a  man  of 
marked  individuality ;  "  no  one  seems  to  have  remarked  the 
peculiarity  of  Samuel  Rogers  as  "  a  man  of  marked  duality  " 
There  were  in  Rogers  two  distinct  natures — nay,  more  than 
distinct ;  they  might  be  called  opposite — the  practical  and  the 
poetical  natures  went  on  in  him  at  the  same  time,  balancing 
each  other  so  happily  that  the  one  never  wronged  the  other. 

Rogers  was  essentially  a  man  of  business,  but  double 
d'un  poete,  and  for  myself  I  have  never  been  able  to  agree 
with  those  who  fail  to  see  culture,  grace,  and  imagination  in 
his  pages — perhaps  not  throughout  them.  Still,  it  seems 

VOL.    I.  14 


194  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

impossible  for  a  candid  and  unprejudiced  reader  of  Rogers's 
works,  especially  perhaps  his  Italy,  not  to  be  struck  as  well 
as  caught  by  the  many  poetical  fancies  which  gleam  through 
his  pages  like  the  sunshine  that  mottles  a  shaded  path. 

Surely,  too,  in  his  Pleasures  of  Memory,  there  are  thoughts 
which  please  us,  touch  us,  and  make  us  think,  and  we  ask 
ourselves  with  admiration  what  manner  of  man  this  was. 
who  could  so  flexibly  turn  from  the  matter-of-fact  to  the 
romantic ;  one  moment  buried  in  accounts,  perhaps  even  in 
tracing  one  of  those  head-breaking  errors  which  diabolically 
persist  in  bewitching  a  balance  ;  the  next,  decoyed  into- 
sweet  converse  with  what  Petrarch  was  wont  to  call  his 
"  silent  companions,"  books  of  quite  another  stamp,  yet 
finding  himself  equally  at  home  with  both. 

I  met  Kogers  in  Paris  with  my  father,  and  we  visited 
the  Catacombs,  beneath  that  city,  in  his  company.  The- 
trap-door  by  which  the  party  reascended  into  the  living 
world  was  the  one  in  the  Church  of  the  Val  cle  Grace  : 
it  so  happened  that  Rogers  was  the  last  to  come  up  • 
as  the  Suisse  who  held  open  the  grille  through  which  we 
were  to  pass,  perceived  the  colourless,  fleshless  face,  and 
denuded  skull  of  the  poet  advancing  from  the  gloom,  he- 
motioned  him  back,  saying  —  "  Nay,  nay,  assuredly 
monsieur  belongs  down  below  !  " 

But  Rogers  must  have  been  accustomed  to  such  jokes,, 
which  we  know  were  freely  administered  by  Sheridan f 
Sydney  Smith,  and  others  of  his  friends. 

However  rich  in  incident  Rogers's  life  may  have  been,  it 
was  so  mixed  up  with  those  of  contemporary  celebrities, 
that  (to  say  nothing  of  the  exhaustive  memoirs,  mono- 
graphs, and  biographies  of  which  he  has  been  the  subject) 
he  has  been  introduced  again  and  again  in  those  of  others 
till  there  seems  nothing  left  unrecorded :  yet  I  do  not  think 
I  have  ever  seen  the  following  in  print,  though  Rogers  used 
to  relate  it. 

He  was  one  day  visiting  a  lady  whom  he  found  recovering 


THE  MARCHIONESS  OF  SALISBURY.  195 

from  a  nervous  shock  received  two  or  three  days  previously  : 
he  did  not  say  she  was  a  weak-minded  woman,  but  probably 
thought  so,  all  the  same.  It  appeared  she  was  taking  a 
drive  in  an  open  carriage  along  the  Fulham  Eoad,  when 
her  footman  seated  behind,  observing  that  then  rare  novelty, 
an  omnibus,  approaching,  leaned  over,  and  kindly  wishing 
to  treat  his  mistress  to  the  sight,  exclaimed — "  The  Hoinbli- 
bus,  my  Lady  !  the  Homblibus  !  " 

The  lady,  startled  by  the  earnestness  of  the  sudden  appeal, 
and  unfamiliar  with  even  the  name  of  the  curious  object  now 
so  common  in  our  vernacular,  took  it  into  her  head  it  must 
be  some  dangerous  wild  beast  escaped  from  a  travelling 
menagerie,  and  after  uttering  the  conventional  scream,  con- 
ventionally fainted,  this  proceeding  being  in  accord  with 
those  of  the  heroines  of  the  novels  of  that  day  on  which 
young  ladies'  minds  were  fed  and  by  which  their  manners 
were  formed. 

Rogers  was  at  Hatfield  House  on  the  very  day  of  the  The 

Marchioness 

melancholy  incident  by  which  the  venerable  and  venerated  of  Salisbury. 
Marchioness  of  Salisbury  lost  her  life.  A  great  portion  of 
this  ancient  historical  house  was  destroyed.  The  poet  had 
been  staying  there  some  days,  and  though  pressed  to  pro- 
long his  visit,  had  been  obliged  to  come  up  to  town  on  the 
Sunday  afternoon,  and  took  leave  without  any  idea  of  the 
catastrophe  then  imminent. 

Lady  Salisbury  was  aged  and  infirm,  but  though  her 
hearing  was  so  indifferent  that  she  often  took  a  book  when 
in  company,  her  eyesight  remained  excellent,  and  she  could 
read  without  glasses  ;  she  was,  however,  near-sighted,  and 
was  in  the  habit  of  stooping  over,  when  reading  or  writing. 

On  the  fatal  Sunday  she  had  dressed  for  dinner  earlier 
than  on  week-days,  to  liberate  her  maid,  whom  she  desired, 
before  leaving  the  room,  to  put  on  the  table,  a  flat  candle- 
stick in  addition  to  the  pair  of  tall  ones  already  there,  as 
she  meant  to  write  some  letters  before  dinner.  The  true 
origin  of  the  disaster  will  never  be  known,  but  it  must  be 


196  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTURY. 

supposed  that  Lady  Salisbury's  lace  head-dress  caught  fire 
at  the  flame  of  the  supplementary  candle. 

The  fire  was  not  discovered  till  it  had  made  considerable 
progress,  and  though  Lord  Salisbury  rushed  to  his  mother's 
room  the  moment  he  ascertained  its  whereabouts,  there  was 
an  unfortunate  loss  of  time  owing  to  that  door  being  fastened 
on  the  inside  and  his  having  to  go  round  some  way,  to  reach 
the  other.  It  was  only  after  the  fire  was  extinguished  that 
her  remains  were  found,  and  so  completely  charred  that  her 
rings  were  hanging  on  the  fleshless  finger-bones. 

For  over  half  a  century  Lady  Salisbury  had  been  recog- 
nized as  the  social  rallying-centre  of  all  that  was  most 
distinguished,  whether  for  birth,  fashion,  or  wit :  she  was  a 
splendid  rider  and  sportswoman,  and  no  other  of  her  sex 
could  approach  her  in  horsewomanship.  It  was  only  a  few 
years  before  her  death  that  she  gave  up  field  sports,  and 
great  was  the  regret  expressed  by  all  those  who  had  de- 
lighted in  having  her  among  them  to  share  the  pleasures  of 
the  chase ;  the  secret  of  their  admiration  probably  consisted 
in  that,  while  pursuing  a  masculine  sport,  she  never  lost  or 
infringed  upon  the  characteristics  of  her  sex,  always  remain- 
ing essentially  delicate,  refined,  and  feminine.  A  writer  of 
the  time,  much  about  the  Court,  tells  us  that  "  there  never 
was,  perhaps,  a  more  highly-bred  woman,  or  one  whose 
courtesy  to  persons  of  all  ranks  better  proved  the  greatness 
of  her  own." 

There  is,  at  Hatfield,  a  beautiful  full-length  portrait  of  this 
unfortunate  lady  catalogued  as  "  Emily  Mary,  Countess  of 
.Salisbury,"  *  painted,  probably  just  after  her  marriage,  by 
Sir  Joshua.  It  is  dated  December  8,  1781,  and  represents 
a  tall,  elegant  young  woman,  wearing  the  fashionable  cos- 
tume of  the  day,  in  a  standing  position — drawing  on  a  long 
glove,  while  a  small  spaniel  is  toying  with  the  end  of  her 
lace  scarf. 

The  picture  has  a  pathetic  interest  for  those  who,  like 

*  The  marquisate  was  not  created  till  1789. 


SAMUEL  ROGERS.  197 


myself,  are  able  to  remember  her  awful  death,  and  can  see 
her  represented  there  in  all  the  pride  of  youth,  rank,  and 
beauty,  with  no  suspicion  of  the  fate  that  was  before  her. 

Rogers  was  the  possessor  of  one  of  the  four  £1,000,000 
notes  struck,  as  a  curiosity,  at  the  Bank  of  England,  and, 
of  course,  not  intended  for  circulation  ;  of  the  other  three, 
one  went  to  George  IV.,  and  is  in  the  Windsor  Library,  one 
to  N.  M.  Rothschild,  and  the  third  remains  at  the  Bank, 
where  I  saw  it  when  these  particulars  were  told  me. 

An  anecdote  of  Rogers,  wrhich  I  have  not  seen  in  any 
of  his  memoirs,  relates  that,  not  being  familiar  with  all  the 
bizarre  detail  of  Court  ceremonial,  he  one  day  so  far  sinned 
against  royal  etiquette  as  to  reply  to  William  IY. — who 
graciously  saluted  him  wdth  "  How  d'ye  do,  Mr.  Rogers  ?  " — 

"  Pretty  well,  Sire,  and  I  hope  your  Majesty  is  quite  well 
also." 

The  King  became  red  and  confused,  but  contented  him- 
self with  smiling,  and  said  nothing.  The  sovereign's 
health  is,  or  then  was,  a  matter  not  to  be  alluded  to,  in  any 
way,  at  Court. 

This  was  a  rule  strictly  observed  at  Versailles  under 
Louis  XIV. 

Rogers,  among  other  scraps  of  Court  news,  once  asserted 
that  Queen  Caroline  could  speak  only  one  word  of  English. 
Probably  there  was  a  time  when  she  could  not  speak  even 
that  one ;  for  she  never  spoke  English  decently,  and  her 
cursing  and  swearing  in  broken  English  made  her  very 
ridiculous.  However,  the  statement  led  to  an  amusing 
discussion  as  to  what  one  word  would  be  the  most  useful  if 
any  lady  could  command  no  more.  Some  were  of  opinion 
it  should  be  "  Yes,"  while  others  were  for  "No  "  ;  but  Lady 
Charlotte  Lindsay  shrewdly  remarked  that  she  should  give 
the  preference  to  "  No  " ;  because  though  "  Yes  "  often 
meant  "No,"  a  lady's  "  No  "  never  meant  "  Yes." 

Queen  Caroline  must  have  learnt  a  good  deal  more 
English  than  Rogers  gave  her  credit  for  by  the  time  the 


198  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

coronation  took  place  ;  for,  on  that  occasion,  she  contrived 
to  charge  with  disloyalty  to  their  Queen,  the  sentinels  who 
opposed  her  entrance  into  the  Abbey  by  barring  her  passage 
with  crossed  bayonets.  However,  had  they  relaxed  their 
resistance,  the  Queen  would  still  not  have  entered.  I  was 
told  by  the  Eev.  W.  Jenkins,  rector  of  Fillingham,  that  his 
uncle  was  at  that  time  page  to  Lord  Gwydyr,  who  was  sta- 
tioned at  the  opposite  extremity  of  the  Abbey,  when  he  was 
told  of  the  arrival  of  the  Queen  and  of  her  altercation  with 
the  sentinels ;  he  immediately  sent  this  page  to  assist,  from 
within,  in  preventing  her  entrance.  The  latter  ran  with 
such  speed  the  whole  length  of  the  building,  that  he  arrived 
just  in  time  to  close  the  doors  in  Her  Majesty's  face ;  as 
she  was  already  barred  out  by  the  sentinels,  this  undignified 
episode  in  a  great  ceremonial,  disgraced  by  an  utterly  need- 
less insult  to  the  Queen,  could  only  be  deplored  by  all 
concerned  in  it. 

Macauiay.  All  the  memoirs  of  the  time  agree  as  to  the  crushing 

effect  of  Macauiay 's  presence  on  Eogers,  who  felt  himself 
"nowhere  "  as  long  as  the  brilliant,  ceaseless,  and  unstem- 
mable  gush  of  that  rich  and  unfathomable  knowledge  poured 
torrent-like  into  the  tide  of  conversation,  and,  as  it  were, 
swept  it  away.  Even  Eogers,  while  irritated  beyond  measure, 
was  forced  to  listen  and  to  admire.  Macauiay 's  memory  was 
phenomenal,  and  retained  apparently  everything  that  had 
ever  been  impressed  on  it ;  for  the  scope  of  his  knowledge 
seemed  to  recognize  no  limits,  and  it  was  impossible  to 
touch  upon  any  subject,  however  lofty  on  the  one  hand, 
or  however  trifling  on  the  other,  in  which  he  did  not 
immediately  prove  himself  at  home.  If  by  a  rare  chance  he 
was  not  acquainted  with  every  detail,  he  talked  so  well,  so 
readily,  and  so  agreeably,  that  no  one  discovered  where  his 
actual  knowledge  of  the  matter  ended,  and  where,  whence, 
or  how,  he  supplemented  it.  All  the  talkers  of  the  day  were 
literally  dumbfoundered  before  him. 

Sydney  Smith  said  many  smart  things  of  him ;  all,  more 


MACAULAY— WHEWELL.  199 

or  less  marked  by  his  good-natured  satire  ;  the  best, 
perhaps,  testifying  to  the  "improvement  of  his  manners 
since  he  returned  from  America,"  as  shown  by  his  "  brilliant 
flashes  of  silence." 

Lord  Melbourne,  remarking  on  Macaulay's  conversational 
aplomb,  said  he  "wished  he  were  as  sure  of  any  one  thing 
as  Macaulay  was  of  everything;"  but  Macaulay  himself 
gracefully  (whether  sincerely  or  not  we  do  not  know)  ad- 
mitted that,  though  lie  always  had  his  knowledge  at  hand, 
Whewell  and  Brougham  really  possessed  more  universal 
knowledge  than  he. 

Whe well's  fame  for  universality  was  European,  and  went  Professor 
so  long  undisputed,  that  he  at  last  joined,  (conscientiously) 
in  the  belief  in  himself.  Dissentient  voices  on  the  subject 
were  scarcely  heeded,  though  Sydney  Smith  had  some 
grounds  for  saying  that  "  Omniloquence  was  his  forte,  and 
omniscience  his  foible." 

Men  of  high  pretensions  will,  necessarily,  always  find 
some  who  dispute  their  supremacy ;  accordingly  we  find  Sir 
David  Brewster  showing  up  in  merciless  terms,  WhewelTs 
want  of  "  omniscience  "  in  his  History  of  the  Inductive 
Sciences,  and  proclaiming  him,  "to  his  own  astonishment  and 
disappointment,"  merely  a  clever  book-maker,  but  without 
either  knowledge  of  his  subject  or  the  patient  industry  of 
a  "  compiler."  He  declares  that,  although  Whewell  had 
undertaken  to  write  upon  a  profound  and  complicated  sub- 
ject, he  displayed  throughout  it  his  utter  inadequacy  for 
the  task.  "  He  was,"  says  Brewster,  "  ignorant  of  the 
optical  discoveries  made  by  Ptolemy,  though  a  MS.  of 
Ptolemy's  optics  is  in  the  Bodleian,  and  papers  on  it  have 
been  published  in  the  Edinburgh  Encyclopedia,"  and  it  had 
been  commented  on  by  Brewster  himself  in  his  report  on 
"  Optics  "  for  the  British  Association.  Ignorant,  also,  he 
declared  Whewell  to  be  of  Snellius's  Law  of  Refraction  and 
Huygens's  account  of  it,  though  he  cites  the  book  ;  ignorant, 
,  of  the  magnificent  experiments  by  the  French  Insti- 


200  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTURY. 

tute  on  the  Force  of  Beams ;  and  he  asserts  that,  at  best, 
his  work  is  one  of  great  pretensions  and  no  real  learning, 
nor  is  it  written  in  a  good  tone  of  feeling. 

Brewster's  comments  were,  however,  taken  up  by  Lord 
Jeffreys,  who — while  admitting  shortcomings  and  assump- 
tion on  the  part  of  Whewell  which,  he  says,  merit  castiga- 
tion,  pronounces  these  comments  "  too  personal  and  bitter  "  ; 
and  he  sharply  criticises  the  critic,  contending  also  that  the 
metaphysical  part  of  Brewster's  review  is  neither  clear,  nor 
deep,  nor  thoroughly  sound.  He  says,  further,  that,  "  if 
Whewell  had  but  the  sense  to  close  his  ears  to  the  words 
of  friends  who  flatter  him,  he  would  profit ;  but,"  he  adds, 
"  though  there  is  much  of  real  value  in  him,  he  makes 
sad  work  of  himself."  Jeffreys  also  gives  personal  in- 
stances of  Whewell's  flippancy,  superficiality,  and  self- 
consciousness,  especially  on  law,  while  Macaulay,  though 
no  admirer  of  Whewell,  condemns  Brewster's  criticismr 
which,  he  says,  savours  of  animosity — a  feeling  which  should 
never  interfere  with  the  judgment  of  a  critic. 

Buckle.  Buckle  wras  another  example  of  these  brilliant  talkers, 

I  remember  once  meeting  him  and  Cardinal  Wiseman  at 
the  same  table,  and  the  Cardinal's  relating  to  me  after 
dinner,  as  of  recent  occurrence,  the  now  well-known  incident 
of  Buckle's  discomfiture,  when,  having  been  privately  chal- 
lenged to  puzzle  the  great  and  admired  Master  of  Trinity, 
he  disastrously  pitched  upon  what  he  thought  the  abstruse 
subject  of  the  history  of  Chinese  music. 

A  story  used  to  be  told  of  Whewell  illustrative  of  the  trans- 
cendent opinion  he  in  common  with  all  Trinity  men  held  of 
their  superiority  to  men  belonging  to  the  rest  of  the  Univer- 
sity, an  opinion  which  he  is  supposed  to  have  shared  in  a  very 
eminent  degree.  It  was  said  that  he  added  the  following 
clause  to  be  used  in  the  bidding  prayer  by  all  parsons  hail- 
ing from  Trinity  College  :  "  Pray  we  likewise  for  all  '  small- 
college-men,'  for  they  also  are  God's  creatures." 

One  of   Crabb   Eobinson's  set    (also,  intimate  with  Dr. 


GEOKGE   RAYMOND.  201 

Kitchiner),  and  whom  many  of  my  readers  will  probably 
remember  as  a  club-man,  and  much  in  literary  and 
dramatic  circles,  was  an  excellent  fellow  named  George  George 
Raymond.  As  he  was  a  favourite  everywhere,  he  would 
probably  have  frequented  general  society  much  more  had  it 
not  been  for  his  devotedness  to  his  mother,  who  was  aged, 
infirm,  and  nearly  blind,  and  whose  greatest  delight  was  to 
spend  her  evenings  at  chess.  George  Raymond  was  a 
University  man  and  a  scholar,  and  published  one  or  two 
popular  books,  being  well  known  by  his  Life  of  Elliston. 
He  was  rich  enough  to  become,  in  a  small  way,  a  patron  of 
art,  artists,  and  authors,  who  wrere  very  glad  to  meet  each 
other  and  his  non-professional  friends,  at  his  elegant 
bachelor-rooms  in  Charles  Street,  St.  James's. 

George  Raymond's  face  was  handsome  and  intelligent, 
and  his  manner  remarkably  gentlemanly,  not  to  say  aristo- 
cratic ;  the  dignity  of  his  bearing  being  the  more  striking 
that,  according  to  report,  his  father  was  a  hatter  in  Bond 
Street,  and  he  had  been  adopted  by  one  of  his  father's  cus- 
tomers, who  had  taken  a  fancy  to  him  when  a  child  and  left 
him  all  his  fortune,  having  had  him  brought  up  with  care 
and  educated  at  Eton  and  Cambridge,  requiring  only  that 
he  should  take  his  name.  He  was  called  to  the  bar,  but 
did  not  practise,  and  became  what  may  be  called  a  "  society 
man."  He  had  a  great  deal  of  humour,  and  was  very 
popular  among  his  friends,  being  a  good  talker  and  an 
admired  raconteur.  His  proclivities  threw  him  much  into 
dramatic  society,  and  his  delightful  bachelor  parties  were 
generally  sprinkled  with  first-class  actors,  such  as  the 
Keans,  the  Kembles,  Macready,  Phelps,  and  others.  The 
Chalons,  George  Cruikshank,  and  other  men  of  artistic 
genius  were  also  to  be  found  there ;  and  as  he  was  no- 
mean  musical  connoisseur,  his  conversaziones  were  fre- 
quented also  by  the  stars  of  that  profession. 

Cruikshank  illustrated  Raymond's  Life  of  Elliston  with  a 
willing  pencil,  and  the  book,  still  well  known,  had  much 


202  GOSSIP   OF   THE  CENTUKY. 

success  ;  it  is  written  with  the  pen  of  a  scholar.  His 
mother  lived  to  a  great  age,  and  it  was  only  after  her  death, 
when  himself  somewhat  advanced  in  life  and  in  feeble 
health,  that  he  went  freely  into  society,  where  he  was 
readily  welcomed.  There  seems  to  have  been  always  a 
certain  charm  in  his  manner ;  for  when  a  boy  at  Eton,  the 
Queen  singled  him  out,  and  when  she  drove  through  the 
town  always  recognized  him,  and  would  call  him  up  to  the 
•carriage  door  and  talk  to  him. 

As  he  grew  older,  his  eyesight  began  to  fail,  and  he 
resolved  to  give  up  entertaining,  and  to  reside  in  a  more 
retired  neighbourhood.  I  remember  the  farewell  dinner  he 
gave,  followed  by  a  brilliant  conversazione,  at  which  Charles 
Kemble  read  "The  Provoked  Husband,"  Albert  Smith  seated 
himself  at  the  piano  and  rattled  away  his  "Galignani's  Mes- 
senger," and  Harley  contributed  "  The  Fine  Old  English 
Gentleman,"  and  being  encored,  sang,  out  of  compliment  to 
our  host,  "He's  a  Jolly  Good  Fellow."  All  three  of  these 
artists  died,  as  did  also  George  Raymond  within  two  years 
of  this  time ! 

When  a  Parisian  bachelor  winds  up  the  wrilder  period  of 
his  existence  with  the  sacramental  words,  "  Je  me  range" 
these  are  usually  interpreted  to  mean,  "  Je  me  marie." 
But  this  was  not  George  Raymond's  purpose  ;  and  when  he 
retired  to  steadiness  and  the  solitude  of  Sloane  Street,  his 
intention  was  to  endure  his  infirmities,  and  not  to  inflict 
them  on  another.  An  attached  valet  followed  him  thither  ; 
but  he  soon  found  he  could  not  get  on  without  "  a  minister- 
ing angel,"  though  he  had  quite  resolved  her  form  should 
not  be  angelic,  and  that  her  functions  should  be  simply 
utilitarian.  In  fact,  it  was  a  "  nurse  "  he  needed,  though 
on  the  whole  he  preferred  to  call  her  a  "  housekeeper."  So 
he  advertised  for  what  he  wanted,  expressing  himself 
rigidly,  in  unmistakable  terms. 

Though  undeniably  growing  old,  George  Raymond's 
youthful  spirit  was  still  strong  in  him,  and  I  wish  I  could 


GEORGE  RAYMOND.  203 


remember,  so  as  to  be  able  to  write  them  in  detail,  the 
descriptions  he  gave,  when  he  came  to  dinner  one  day,  of 
the  more  or  less  droll  interviews  which  his  advertisement 
produced.  The  list  of  answers  was  formidable  ;  I  can  liken 
it  to  nothing  but  Leporello's  Catalogo.  I  warned  him  that 
his  reputation  might  lose  its  character  for  propriety  if  he 
were  to  continue  encouraging  the  pretensions  of  these  fair 
creatures,  and  he  admitted  that  he  was  afraid  the  purity  of 
his  intentions  had  not  been  fully  appreciated. 

Among  this  amusing  correspondence  was  a  communica- 
tion from  an  aspirant,  the  originality  of  whose  style  showed 
she  had  not  acquired  her  epistolary  capabilities  from  The 
Complete  Letter-writer ;  its  tone  was  diplomatically  matronly 
and  sedate,  and  he  nattered  himself  as  he  read  on,  that  he 
had  at  last  discovered  the  exceptional  treasure  he  was  in 
quest  of.  He  replied,  begging  the  writer  to  call,  and  at  the 
appointed  hour  she  arrived  with  a  modest  ring  at  the  bell. 
Blind  as  he  was,  however,  poor  George  Eaymond  soon 
found  that  his  search  was  not  yet  at  an  end.  The 
individual  was  at  the  dangerous  age  of  about  forty,  with 
considerable  pretensions  to  style,  and  by  no  means  with- 
out personal  charms,  by  no  means  therefore  the  plain, 
practical,  working  housekeeper  of  his  hopes.  Her  eyes 
were  far  too  brilliant,  her  complexion  too  blooming,  her 
teeth  too  white,  and  her  smile  too  bewitching,  and  the  fact 
that  her  elegant  figure  was  set  off  with  a  graceful  deep 
mourning  costume  de  jeune  veuve,  far  too  suggestive  of  her 
projects.  George  Kaymond's  life-long  antecedents  had  been 
too  marked  for  their  gallantry  to  leave  him  in  embarrass- 
ment as  to  how  to  back  gracefully  out  of  such  an  entangle- 
ment with  one  of  the  sex. 

"  Alas !  madam,"  said  he,  with  the  charm  of  his  old 
manner,  evoked  by  the  occasion,  "you  are  far  too  attractive 
to  be  buried  alive  in  such  a  den  of  oblivion  as  that  to  which 
my  failing  health  obliges  me  to  condemn  myself." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  the  fascinating  creature,  "  you 


204  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

are  much  too  considerate.  I  am  not  so  young  as  I  perhaps 
seem  ;  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  as  it  is  a  matter  of  business, 
I  am  not  far  from  fifty." 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "I  must  say  without  flattery,  and  with- 
out compliment,  that  you  are  the  most  youthful  quinqua- 
genarian I  have  ever  seen,  and  whatever  your  powers  of 
persuasion  may  be,  7  should  never  get  any  one  to  believe 
that  you  are  one." 

"  Oh,  but  then,  sir,"  she  rejoined,  "if  you  did  but  know 
how  discreet  I  am  !  " 

However,  Eaymond  was  not  to  be  seduced  by  the 
plausible  talk  of  the  "discreet"  syren;  and  at  last,  instead 
of  the  pretty  young  widow  of  fabulous  fifty,  whose  tete-a-tete 
society  was  honestly  not  within  his  ideas  and  intentions,  he 
ended  by  taking  a  cook-housekeeper-nurse,  all  in  one,  and 
a  man-servant — husband  and  wife,  with  whom  he  got  on 
extremely  well,  till  the  end  (now  not  very  far  off)  came,  and 
then  he  dropped  out  of  the  circle,  which  continued  to  miss- 
his  genial  friendship  as  long  as  they  survived.  When 
ultimately,  he  had  become  nearly  blind,  it  was  melancholy 
to  meet  him  groping  his  way  about  Suffolk  Street  and  Pall 
Mall,  hovering  round  his  club  with  feeble  steps,  helped  by  a 
stick.  Often  have  I  found  him  there,  jostled  by  the  crowd 
and  scarcely  able  to  make  his  way,  and  when  I  have  said 
cheerily,  "  Come,  suppose  we  take  a  little  stroll  together," 
he  would  brighten  up  and  gladly  avail  himself  of  my  arm. 
Even  then  his  conversation  was  most  interesting,  and  these 
short  walks  were  a  real  pleasure  to  myself,  if  not  to  him. 
Charles  and  Among  the  pleasant  and  distinguished  habitues  of  George 
Raymond's  classical  rooms,  were  Charles  and  William 
Goding,  of  Hyde  Park  Place,  both,  but  especially  the 
latter,  well  known  for  their  taste  and  skill  in  discover- 
ing and  collecting  articles  of  virtu.  Their  splendid  col- 
lection of  rare  and  valuable  snuff  boxes  was  exhibited 
in  the  "World's  Fair  "  of  1851,  and  is  now  to  be  seen 
in  the  South  Kensington  Museum.  Their  eldest  brother, 


THE  GODING  BROTHERS.  205 

James  Goding,  married  Lady  Jane  Coventry.  He  had 
a  mania  for  collecting  musical  instruments,  and  although 
he  had  no  notion  of  music,  spent  fabulous  sums  on  this 
fancy.  In  this  museum  he  once  showed  me  a  Stra- 
divarius  which  he  considered  himself  "most  fortunate" 
in  securing  at  £300  !  His  father-in-law,  the  Earl  of  Coventry 
and  grandson  of  the  beautiful  Maria  Gunning,  was  the 
victim  of  a  singular  accident,  the  result  of  his  own  rashness. 
For  a  wager  he  attempted  to  leap  a  five-barred  gate,  when 
his  horse's  hoof  caught  in  the  top  bar,  and  the  animal  fell, 
throwing  his  rider  on  to  a  heap  of  broken  flints ;  he  was 
picked  up  unconscious,  and  as  he  had  fallen  on  his  face,  his 
eyes  were  so  seriously  injured  that  he  remained  blind  during 
the  remainder  of  his  life. 

A  man  of  mark,  and  always  an  acquisition  in  society  from  sir  Francis 
his  cheerful  humour  and  ready  wit,  was  Sir  Francis  Bond 
Head  (nicknamed  Sir  Francis  Wrong-head).  He  had  led  a 
very  active,  adventurous  life,  but  an  8vo  volume  published 
by  him  in  1834,  under  the  attractive  title  of  Bubbles  from 
the  Brunnens  of  Nassau,  brought  the  unknown  author  into 
immediate  and  favourable  notice.  It  was  widely  circulated 
at  the  time,  and  is  still  read  with  pleasure.  It  started 
successfully  under  the  mystery  of  an  anonym,  the  author- 
ship being  given  out  as  that  of  "  An  Old  Man."  It  was 
accepted  as  such  by  the  general  public,  the  probability 
being  borne  out  by  the  bonhomie  of  the  tone  in  which  it  is 
written.  The  moment  was  felicitous  for  fixing  on  such  a 
subject ;  the  spas  of  Germany  were  just  then  coming  into 
special  repute  ;  fashionable  M.D.'s  (whose  business  it  is  to 
discover  the  proclivities  of  their  patients,  and  then  to  pre- 
scribe a  regime  that  will  give  scope  to  them)  were  despatching 
real  or  imaginary  invalids  in  shoals  to  these  resorts — with 
what  contingent  advantages  to  themselves  we  will  not  take 
the  trouble  to  inquire.  It  was  enough  for  the  author  who 
selected  this  fertile  subject  for  his  theme,  that  the  localities 
in  question  were  acquiring  a  widespread  reputation  among 


206  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

tourists,  who  were  quite  ready  to  believe  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  their  petite  sante  that  they  should  spend  their 
mornings  at  picnics  in  a  beautiful  country,  and  their  even- 
ings in  casinos,  where  dancing,  feasting,  and  roulette  served 
to  vary  their  amusements. 

The  "  Old  Man's  "  powers  of  observation  were  as  keen  as 
his  descriptions  were  droll  and  picturesque,  while  his  style 
was  scholarly  and  attractive. 

His  readers  revelled  in  his  accounts  of  localities  already 
familiar  to  some,  and  immediately  inspired  others  with  the 
wish  to  visit  them ;  and  they  were  so  possessed  with  the  con- 
viction that  the  local  peculiarities  and  characters  he  described 
really  existed  as  painted  in  his  pages,  that  they  were  per- 
suaded they  recognized  them  on  the  actual  spot,  when  they 
reached  it.  Sir  Francis  employed  rose-coloured  ink  in  his 
sketches  of  the  quaint  and  primitive  country  to  which  he 
introduced  his  readers,  and  they  were  quite  willing  to  find 
everything  as  charming  as  he  had  represented  it.  Nassau 
felt  the  benefit  of  the  good  word  he  had  spoken  for  it  for  a 
long  time  after,  and  owed  its  popularity  as  much  to  Sir 
Francis,  as  Cannes  to  Lord  Brougham. 

The  Bubbles  (for  the  copyright  of  which  the  author  re- 
ceived only  £200)  was  decidedly  Sir  Francis's  best  literary 
effort,  but  his  was  a  busily  occupied  life,  and  had  been 
spent  in  far  more  serious  work  than  in  writing  a  humorous 
guide  book.  He  was  born  in  1793,  and  was  consequently 
about  forty  when  he  found  time  to  indulge  in  this  recrea- 
tive episode,  both  before  and  after  which  he  filled  official 
positions  of  importance,  whether  in  Canada  or  in  South 
America,  and  his  pen  was  employed  almost  incessantl}*  in 
descriptive  accounts  of  his  official  work  and  of  the  state  of 
the  countries  he  visited ;  he  was  also  a  continual  contributor 
to  the  Quarterly.  He  was  created  a  Baronet  in  1836 
in  recognition  of  his  services  as  Deputy  -  Governor  in 
Canada,  where  his  military  training  in  the  Royal  En- 
gineers enabled  him  to  examine  the  country,  to  ascertain 


SIR  FRANCIS  B.  HEAD— W.  E.  GLADSTONE.          207 

its  mineralogical  conditions,  and  to  report  on  its  capabi- 
lities generally.  The  versatility  of  Head's  powers  was 
amazing ;  nothing  seemed  to  come  amiss  to  him,  and  his 
energy  was  equally  exhaustless. 

He  settled  down  into  private  life  with  his  wife  and  children 
at  Duppas  Hill,  Croydon,  where  he  died  in  1875,  aged 
eighty-two.  Among  Sir  Francis's  other  social  qualifications 
were  his  horsemanship  and  his  proficiency  as  a  sportsman, 
which  he  still  manifested  when  nearly  eighty.  He  rode 
with  so  much  pluck  and  rapidity  that  he  was  called 
"Galloping  Head." 

Sir  Francis  had  an  elder  brother,  who  seems  to  have  very  captain  sir 
much  resembled  him  in  character,  and  who  also  led  a  very  George  Head- 
roving  life  ;  in  both,  spontaneity  of  humour  and  fertility 
of  imagination  were  marked  characteristics.     Captain  Head 
was  knighted  at  the  coronation  of  William  IV.     Like  his 
brother,  Sir  George  travelled  in  Canada,  and  his  descriptive 
contributions  written  from  that  country,  for  the  Quarterly , 
were  heartily  welcomed  by  its  readers. 

Travelling  on  the  Rhine  in  1838,  our  party  met  and  for 
some  days  joined  Sir  George,  whom  we  found  a  delightful 
travelling  companion.  He  was  at  that  time  suffering  from 
an  extinction  de  voix,  the  result  of  having  been  put  into  a 
damp  bed  at  an  hotel. 

On  this  same  tour  we  also  met  an  English  party,  con-  Mr.  w.  E. 
sisting  of  two  gentlemen  and  two  ladies,  the  latter  tall,  Gladstone- 
stylish  girls,  who,  with  their  cavaliers,  were  thoroughly 
enjoying  this  their  first  acquaintance  with  the  Rhine 
scenery.  One  of  the  gentlemen  was  Sir  Stephen  Glynn, 
the  ladies  were  his  sisters,  and  the  other  gentleman  was 
Mr.  W.  E.  Gladstone,  then  a  Grand  Young  Man,  whose 
years,  at  that  time  under  thirty,  might  be  arrived  at  by  revers- 
ing the  figures  representing  those  he  now  numbers.  He  was 
tall  and  dark,  and  his  manner  was  marked,  not  only  by  a 
certain  courtesy  and  elegance,  but  by  that  degree  of  reserve 
which  (more  especially  in  the  pre-vulgarized-travelling  days) 


208  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

one  was,  and  perhaps  still  is,  accustomed  to  look  for  in  an 
Englishman  of  the  upper  class.  The  elder  of  these  ladies, 
shortly  after,  became  Mrs.  Gladstone. 

Andrew  ^ne  °^  ^ne  mos^  intelligent  and  profound  scientists  of  his 

Crosse,  the      time,  a  man  of  earnest  purpose  and  painstaking,  conscien- 

Electncian.  .  re  r  o  j 

tious  research,  was  Andrew  Crosse,  the  electrician,  of  Fyne 
Court,  Broomefield.  His  character  was  eminently  attrac- 
tive, because,  speculative  and  resolute  as  was  his  experi- 
mental philosophy,  and  serious  as  his  determination  to 
fathom  scientific  truth,  there  was  no  want  of  imagination, 
not  to  say  of  romance,  in  his  nature.  He  wrote  poetry  with 
great  facility,  and  we  find  in  the  few  effusions  he  has  left, 
the  evidence  of  deep  feeling  and  a  graceful  fancy. 

I  never  met  Andrew  Crosse  himself,  but  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  his  widow,  first  in  the  appreciative  and  most 
interesting  Memoir  she  has  written  of  her  distinguished 
husband,  and  afterwards,  personally,  at  the  house  of  a 
common  friend.  She  must  have  been  a  congenial  com- 
panion to  her  cultivated  husband,  whose  pursuits  she  was 
able  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  while  she  shared  them,  for 
her  biography  of  him  alone,  would  amply  testify  to  her 
literary  ability  and  scientific  knowledge. 

It  is  unusual  for  a  man  of  fortune  and  position,  a  landed 
proprietor  and  landlord,  a  country  squire  and  magistrate, 
beset  by  the  responsibilities  of  these  social  conditions 
superadded  to  the  duties  of  a  paterfamilias,  to  take  up 
with  grave  and  professional  ardour  so  deep  and  engrossing 
a  study  as  that  of  electricity;  but  such  was  Andrew  Crosse's 
ardour  in  its  behalf,  that,  insensibly  led  on  by  what  \vas  at 
first  but  an  amusement,  he  was  brought  to  some  of  the 
most  wonderful  discoveries  that  have  been  made  in  that 
mysterious  science.  There  is  no  doubt,  though  his  suc- 
cessors appear  slow  to  recognize  the  fact,  that  Andrew 
Crosse  paved  the  way  for  much  of  the  practical  know- 
ledge which  has  since  passed  as  due  to  the  labours  and 
intelligence  of  others.  Is  not  this  always  the  fate  of 


ANDREW  CROSSE.  209 


pioneers  ?  It  must,  however,  be  well  known  to  the  pro- 
fession, that  Andrew  Crosse  deserves  to  be  better  remem- 
bered by  the  world  at  large  :  unfortunately,  his  own 
unjustifiable  modesty  and  his  shy,  retiring  disposition 
made  him  more  of  a  recluse  than  was  good  for  himself, 
his  contemporaries,  or  posterity.  Even  as  iron  sharpens 
iron,  the  advantages  of  interchanging  ideas  with  men  of 
genius  are  reciprocal,  and  such  men  as  Andrew  Crosse 
discover  more  of  their  own  latent  attributes  in  the  society 
of  kindred  spirits  :  the  world  of  science,  after  all,  profits 
more  than  |they  themselves  by  the  influence  of  this  vivi- 
fying intercourse. 

The  result  of  his  famous  experiment  (when  on  quite 
another  tack)  which  brought  living  creatures  out  of  flints, 
was  received  in  a  narrow  and  suspicious  spirit,  more  in 
accordance  with  the  ignorance  of  inquisitorial  rule  than 
the  enlightenment  of  what  professes  to  be  a  cultivated 
age.  It  is  hardly  credible,  and  certainly  not  creditable, 
that,  instead  of  being  met  with  the  generous  warmth  due 
to  a  success  which  courted  investigation,  a  large  portion 
of  the  British  public,  yielding  to  blind  prejudice,  passed 
upon  the  philosopher  the  most  unworthy  censures,  tra- 
ducing as  "  impious  "  the  researches  of  a  man  whose  whole 
life  was  regulated  by  the  strictest  religious  principles  and 
whose  unqualified  belief  in  Christianity  might  have  been 
tested  by  his  conscientious  practice  of  its  duties. 

Faraday,  in  a  lecture  delivered  at  the  Koyal  Institution 
(February  28,  1837),  propounded  these  special  discoveries 
of  Mr.  Andrew  Crosse,  enlarging  on  "  the  formation  or 
revivification  by  scientific  treatment,  of  animalcula  in  flints, 
assuring  his  audience  that  he  had  himself  tested  the  pro- 
cess with  similar  results.  The  Professor,  on  the  same 
occasion,  exhibited  some  insects  obtained  from  hard  polished 
stone,  by  a  continuous  voltaic  stream  of  silicate  of  potassa 
which,  like  those  of  Mr.  Crosse,  were  now  enjoying  life 
after  a  suspension  of  perhaps  many  thousand  years. 

VOL.   I.  15 


210  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

As  a  member  of  society  no  less  than  as  a  natural  philo- 
sopher, the  life  of  Andrew  Crosse  is  a  beacon-light  to  his 
fellow-men,  and  those  who  admire  all  that  is  simple  and 
noble  in  our  common  nature,  may  learn  in  the  able  and 
erudite  Memoir  written  by  his  widow  to  appreciate  his  rare 
moral  and  social  qualities. 

It  is  much  to  be  deplored  that  in  that  most  disappoint- 
ing compilation  entitled  "  The  Dictionary  of  National 
Biography,"  which  ought  to  have  been  an  honour  and  an 
ornament  to  our  time,  and  a  reliable  authority  for  posterity, 
the  account  given  of  Andrew  Crosse  is  as  incorrect  and  as 
misleading  as  many  other  of  the  erroneous  notices  which 
detract  so  seriously  from  the  value  of  those  volumes. 

Andrew  Crosse  was  born  in  1784,  and  died  in  1855. 
r  •»•  ,.   „         At  the  hospitable  house  of  the  late  Mr.  Arden  in  Caven- 

Mr.  Richard 

Arden.  dish  Square,  I  have  spent  many  a  pleasant  hour.     He  was 

a  man  of  much  taste  and  resource,  and  had  great  skill  in 
discovering,  acquiring,  and  collecting  around  him,  works 
of  art,  which  adorned  his  large  house  in  London,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  interest  they  added  to  the  fine 
mansion  he  likewise  occupied  at  Rickmansworth.  His 
morning-room  in  Cavendish  Square  was  enriched  with 
a  rare  curiosity,  this  being  a  well-authenticated  papyrus  he 
was  fortunate  enough  to  secure  during  a  visit  to  Egypt, 
where  he  made  a  singular  purchase,  that  of  a  mummy. 
I  do  not  remember  if  he  ascertained  who  this  musty  old 
party  had  been,  nor  what  became  of  him  after  he  was  un- 
rolled ;  the  important  fact  connected  with  him  was  that 
the  cerecloth  being  removed,  he  (or,  it  may  have  been,  she!) 
was  found  bandaged  up  in  sheets,  not  of  "  fine  linen," 
but  of  papyrus,  abundantly  written  on.  Mr.  Arden  was  too 
shrewd  and  intelligent  not  to  apply  himself  to  ascertain 
what  it  was  he  had  bought,  and  on  examination  it  proved 
to  be  a  work  of  the  ancient  Greek  writer — Hypereides — of 
whom  there  was  not  known  to  be  anything  extant,  all  that 
he  had  written  having  been  supposed  burnt  in  the  conna- 


MR.  RICHARD  ARDEN.  211 

gration  of  the  library  at  Alexandria.  With  the  help  of 
experts,  Mr.  Arden  developed  these  wonderful  leaves,  and 
having  had  a  limited  number  of  copies  (of  which  I  pos- 
sess one)  taken  from  plates,  which  were  then  destroyed, 
he  caused  the  original,  which  was  found  wonderfully  per- 
fect, to  be  framed  and  glazed  and  disposed  as  I  have 
stated  above,  round  the  walls  of  his  study :  he  had  also  a 
fine  collection  of  modern  pictures  there ;  to  the  best  of  my 
recollection  these,  or  some  of  them,  were  sold  after  his 
death.  His  acquaintance  was  large,  and  many  interesting 
people  were  to  be  met  at  his  dinners  and  conversaziones. 
I  remember  one  night,  among  other  foreign  celebrities, 
meeting  there  Louis  Napoleon  and  his  cousin.*  The  future 
Emperor  was  so  insignificant  in  figure  that  he  would 
-certainly  have  passed  quite  unnoticed  in  a  room,  but  for  his 
name,  and  even  that  carried  very  little  importance  with  it 
under  the  circumstances.  His  features  being  remarkable 
for  their  extreme  dissimilarity  to  those  of  the  Bonaparte 
family,  it  was  only  when  one  knew  who  he  was,  and  fixed 
one's  attention  on  his  face,  that  one  began  to  study  him,  and 
most  people  would  probably  have  remarked  what  might  be 
called  an  intro-spective  expression,  as  if  his  thoughts  were 
concentrated  on  some  set  purpose,  as  we  now  know  they,  at 
that  time,  were. 

Mr.  Arden  had  a  twin  brother  who  resembled  him  so 
strikingly  that  I,  and  probably  others,  could  never  be  sure 
of  their  respective  identity :  he  had  two  very  handsome 
•daughters,  the  elder  of  whom  married  Mr.  Birch,  brother  to 
the  Prince  of  Wales' s  tutor. 

This   similarity  between    twins   occurred    between   two  Mr.  scoies. 

:|:  Louis  Napoleon  was  at  this  time  renting  a  house  of  Charles  Philips,  Q.C.,  in 
King  Street,  St.  James's,  and  was  very  glad  to  be  admitted  into  society  in  London. 
He  was  one  of  the  frequenters  of  the  salon  of  Lady  Blessington,  at  Gore  House, 
where  he  was  always  most  amiably  received,  and  was  on  the  most  friendly 
terms  with  Count  d'Orsay,  who  helped  him  in  many  ways  ;  services  which  he 
seems  to  have  forgotten  when  fate  had,  so  to  speak,  reversed  their  respective 
positions. 


212  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

other  brothers  of  my  acquaintance  by  name  Scoles.  One  of 
them  was  the  architect  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  Farm 
Street.  They  were  both  of  small  stature,  but  had  large 
families,  twelve  children  each.  An  early  friend  who  had 
been  abroad  some  years,  haying  returned  to  England,  and 
meeting  one  of  the  Scoles  brothers,  among  other  friendly 
inquiries,  asked  him  if  he  were  married,  and  being  answered 
in  the  affirmative,  proceeded  to  ask  what  family  he  had. 
"Come  and  dine  with  me  to-day,"  said  Scoles,  "and  you 
will  see  my  children."  Meantime  he  sent  for  his  brother's 
children,  and  placed  them  and  his  own,  down  the  two  sides 
of  the  table,  introduced  them  all  to  his  guest  as  the  young 
Scoles's.  Need  I  say  that  his  friend  sat  aghast  till  at  last 
informed  that  Scoles  owned  only  half  the  family  he  had  seen  ! 
George  Eliot.  Schopenhauer  has  laid  down  a  theory  that  authors  may 
be  categorized  like  stars — "  Some,"  he  says,  "  are  like  falling 
stars,  producing  a  momentary  and  meteoric  effect ;  others 
are  like  planets  and  have  a  much  steadier  and  longer  influ- 
ence ;  while  others  again,  like  the  fixed  stars,  remain  un- 
changeable, possess  their  own  light,  and  work  for  all  time.'" 
It  is  for  time  to  prove  the  accuracy  of  this  analogy,  as  the 
real  and  intrinsic  value  of  an  author  can  be  estimated  only 
by  the  verdict  of  the  generations  that  succeed  him.  It  is 
not  long  since  the  grave  closed  over  George  Eliot,  or  more 
properly  speaking  Mary  Ann  Evans,  and  yet  it  has  already 
been  faintly  whispered  by  some,  and  loudly  asserted  by 
others,  that  she  has  been  greatly  over-rated ;  men  of  calm 
judgment  and  reflecting  mind,  who  may  even  suspect  such 
to  be  the  case,  will  assert  that  it  is  perhaps  premature  to 
pronounce  an  opinion  on  this  contemporary  writer,  but  I 
think  even  her  admirers  regret  that  she  ever  attempted  to 
"  ride  on  a  horse  with  wings."  Instead,  however,  of  digres- 
sing into  presumptuous  and  premature  criticism,  I  will,  in 
mentioning  George  Eliot  as  a  personal  acquaintance,  confine 
myself  to  the  recollections  I  retain  of  the  refined  and  peace- 
ful, if  abnormal,  menage,  at  The  Priory,  where  George, 


GEORGE  ELIOT. 


213 


Eliot  and  George  Henry  Lewes  did  the  honours  with  so  much 
grace  and  hospitality. 

"The  Priory"  was  a  quiet,  simple,  unpretending,  yet 
•elegant,  villa,  where  one  seemed  to  breathe  an  atmosphere  of 
literature.  The  almost  classic  drawing-room,  half  library,  had 
a  pleasant  look-out  into  the  garden,  and  was  so  entirely  the 
recognized  habitat  of  its  occupants  that  one  knew  intuitively 
before  being  shown  in,  that  as  soon  as  the  door  was  opened 
the  pair  would  be  "  discovered,"  George  Lewes  in  his  easy- 


GEOEOE  ELIOT. 

chair  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  fireplace,  as  you  faced  it, 
and  George  Eliot  on  the  left ;  you  were  equally  sure  of  a 
cordial  reception  from  this  gifted  couple,  whose  Sunday  "  at 
homes,"  though  certainly  not  always  lively,  were  necessarily 
interesting  ;  they  brought  together  literary  and  artistic  cele- 
brities and  their  Maecenases ;  mostly  men,  of  course  ;  still,  as 
it  was  always  a  chance  gathering,  there  was  much  uncertainty 
as  to  the  materials  of  which  it  would  consist ;  these  reunions 
therefore  varied  considerably  in  brilliancy  and  attractiveness. 


214  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTURY. 

George  Eliot  was  by  no  means  sparkling  in  conversation, 
indeed,  her  social  attributes  were  rather  of  the  heavier, 
almost  Johnsonian,  order,  and  her  remarks  were  often  sen- 
tentious, though  apparently  not  designedly  so,  for  there  was. 
obviously  no  intentional  arrogation  of  superiority,  though 
perhaps  an  almost  imperceptible  evidence  of  self-conscious- 
ness. The  impression  she  left  was  that  of  seriousness  and 
solid  sense,  untempered  by  any  ray  of  humour,  scarcely  of 
cheerfulness ;  she  spoke  in  a  measured,  thoughtful  tone 
which  imparted  a  certain  importance  to  her  words,  but 
her  speech  was  marked  rather  by  reticence  than  volu- 
bility :  now  and  then  she  would  give  out  an  epigram- 
matic phrase  which  seemed  almost  offered  as  a  theme 
for  discussion,  or  as  a  trait  of  originality  to  be  perhaps 
recorded  by  her  chroniclers.  I  remember,  among  many 
remarks  of  this  kind,  her  once  saying  in  a  reflective  tone, 
"  Many  suicides  have  greatly  surprised  me ;  I  find  life  so 
very  interesting."  Lewes,  on  the  other  hand,  was  really 
witty,  interspersing  his  conversation  with  natural  flashes  of 
humour,  quite  spontaneous  in  character,  which  would  con- 
tinually light  up  his  talk :  even  when  he  said  bitter  things 
he  had  a  way  of  putting  them  amusingly.  I  remember  his 
asking  me,  one  day,  how  stood  a  certain  manuscript  which 
I  was  about  to  publish. 

"  It  is  with ,"  I  replied,  "  and  you  know  he  takes  a 

long  time  to  make  up  his  mind." 

"Make  up  his  ...  what?"  said  Lewes.  "  You  didn't 
say  mind  ?  I  didn't  know  he  had  one  !  " 

Perhaps  the  unlucky  publisher  in  question  had  rubbed  up 
Lewes's  feathers  the  wrong  way,  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously ;  still,  I  admit  his  appreciation  was  justifiable,  and 
Lewes  was  not  the  only  one  to  take  that  view. 

Lewes  had  met  with  much  vexatious  indifference,  not  to 
say  opposition,  on  the  part  of  the  publishers  generally  when 
he  first  proposed  to  write  his  book  on  the  drama,  and  even 
when  he  had  collected  his  ideas  on  the  subject  and  "  coined 


GEOEGE   ELIOT.  215 


them  into  words,"  as  Bacon  puts  it,  they  were  still  recalci- 
trant and  "  didn't  seem  to  see  it."  It  was  scarcely  to  be 
wondered  at,  therefore,  that  he  should  manifest  some  asperity 
when  speaking  of  the  fraternity. 

One  day,  just  after  the  picture  of  The  Dead  Warrior, 
11  attributed  to  Velasquez  "  had  been  bought  for  the  National 
Gallery,  I  went  with  Lewes  and  George  Eliot  to  see  it. 
Various  interpretations  of  the  meaning  of  the  subject  had 
been  circulated,  and  none  had  been  universally  accepted. 
Anthony  Trollope  had  joined  us  and  each  started  a  different 
supposition,  no  one  appearing  willing  to  accept  the  version 
hazarded  in  the  catalogue.  If,  as  supposed  there,  "  the  Dead 
Warrior"  be  Orlando,  alias  Rolando,  he  must  have  been 
"  squeezed  to  death,"  that  hero  having  been  represented  as 
"invulnerable  by  the  sword,"  and  certainly  the  figure  as 
there  painted  does  not  bear  out  that  theory ;  nevertheless  it 
is  catalogued  as  the  "  body  of  the  peerless  Paladin  Orlando  " 
who  fought  at  Eoncesvalles  by  the  side  of  Charlemagne. 
No  attempt  has  been  made  to  account  for  the  surroundings 
and  accessories  ;  the  cavern  in  which  he  lies,  the  armour  he 
still  wears,  the  extinguished  lamp  suspended  over  his  feet, 
and  the  skulls  and  bones  scattered  about,  add  to  the 
mysterious  suggestiveness,  and,  no  doubt,  all  these  details 
had  a  meaning.  We  looked  at  it  a  long  time,  and  came 
away  without  solving  the  enigma  which,  George  Eliot 
remarked,  "  left  much  room  for  the  play  of  imagination." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  I,  "if  I  had  your  powers  I  would  take  it  as 
the  text  of  a  romance." 

"  Who  knows  but  I  may  ?  "  she  answered. 

The  triple  portrait  of  Charles  I.,  by  Vandyke,  next 
occasioned  a  pause,  and  suggested  a  droll  story.  I  could  not 
resist  telling  them  of  a  little  boy  who,  being  asked  how 
that  king  died,  replied  with  some  originality,  "  They  cut  off 
his  body."  Lewes  thought  the  answer  very  significant,  and 
contended  that  that  was  really  the  proper  way  of  describing 
what  is  called  a  "  decapitation." 


GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTUEY. 


It  is,  I  think,  well  known  that  a  bust  of  the  king  having 
been  undertaken  by  Bernini,  and  that  sculptor  being  a 
fixture  in  Rome,  some  expedient  had  to  be  resorted  to,  to 
enable  him  to  execute  the  work  at  that  distance  from  his 
sitter.  Monarchs  did  not  in  those  days  travel  about  with 
return  tickets,  nor  even  with  tickets  of  leave,  nor  if  they 


Frvn.  +  PiOure  fy  Old  Sraiir  afttr Tan  Byck 


FingCharles  I 


/  /vm  fJkf  0rt0tf**£n 

John  Thanr  . 

THE  TRIPLE  PORTRAIT  OP  CHARLES  I. 

had,  could  the  Eoyal  mountain  have  compromised  its  dignity 
by  going  to  Mahomet ;  Bernini,  therefore,  requested  that 
he  might  be  provided  with  three  views  of  the  Eoyal  head — a 
full,  a  half,  and  a  three-quarters,  the  result  being  the  very 
beautiful  and  engaging  group  executed  by  the  great  Court 


VANDYK'S   TRIPLE   PORTRAIT   OF   CHARLES   I.      217 

painter.     Happy  would  it  have  been  for  the  sitter  if  his 
head  had  never  been  executed  in  any  other  way ! 

There  is  more  however  to  be  said  about  this  picture,  and 
Lewes  having  told  me  he  was  not  cognizant  of  its  history,  I 
referred  him  to  the  Appendix  to  a  curious  and  somewhat 
rare  old  volume  called  Macaria  excidium*  where  it  is  given 
in  extenso,  informing  us  that  on  receiving  the  picture  the 
Italian  sculptor  was  not  less  struck  with  the  perfection  of  the 
picture  than  with  the  mournful  beauty  of  the  face,  or  rather 
of  the  three  faces.  In  fact,  while  studying  with  patient 
conscientiousness  the  noble  features  he  had  undertaken  to 
reproduce  in  marble,  he  could  not  shake  off  a  persistent 
presentiment  of  some  terrible  fate  that  impended  over  the 
original.  The  idea  so  seriously  unhinged  his  mind  that  he  set 
the  gloomy  canvas  aside  in  a  corner  of  his  studio,  hoping  that, 
by  some  fortunate  chance,  the  order  might  be  forgotten,  and 
that  he  should  be  spared  the  fulfilment  of  the  undertaking. 
Finding  distraction  in  other  work,  he  had  almost  banished 
the  English  King  and  his  bust  from  his  thoughts,  when  one 
fine  day  he  was  startled  by  a  communication  from  the 
English  Court  requesting  information  as  to  how  near  the 
work  might  be  to  its  completion.  Thus  urged,  Bernini  did 
his  best  to  overcome  his  reluctance  and  bravely  took  his 
task  in  hand.  At  last  the  marble  effigy  was  completed  and 
was  packed  and  despatched  to  its  destination. 

It  happened  to  reach  its  journey's  end  while  the  Court 
was  residing  at  Chelsea  Palace,  and  was  sent  thither.  The 
King  had  just  dined  when  it  arrived,  and  had  adjourned 
with  some  of  his  courtiers  to  a  summer-house  in  the  garden, 
when  he  was  informed  that  a  case  from  Rome  awaited  his 
pleasure  :  he  ordered  it  to  be  brought  and  to  be  un- 
packed before  him  ;  the  lid  was  scarcely  removed  and  the 
attendants  had  not  yet  lifted  out  the  bust  they  had  just 


*  Macaulay  in  his  fragment  of  English   History  alludes  mere  than   once  to 
this  volume. 


218  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUKY. 

exposed  to  view,  when  a  hawk,  carrying  a  lark  in  its  beakr 
flew  by,  and  as  it  passed  over  the  spot,  a  streak  of  the 
victim's  blood  fell  upon  the  throat  of  the  effigy  marking  it 
with  a  slender  crimson  line.  No  word  was  spoken,  but 
those  present  looked  at  one  another  in  terror  at  the  un- 
toward sight,  the  more  ominous  that  it  was  found  impossible 
to  obliterate  the  mark.  The  bust  was  placed  in  a  niche 
over  the  library  door,  and  when  the  palace  was  burnt,  it  was. 
destroyed  in  the  fire,  no  trace  of  it  having  ever  been  found. 

George  Henry  Lewes  added  to  the  charm  of  eminent, 
scholarliness  and  wide  knowledge  of  classical  literature, 
ancient  and  modern — together  with  a  profound  and  practical 
acquaintance  with  several  European  languages — the  polished 
manners  of  an  accomplished  man  of  the  world.  His  study 
of  almost  every  branch  of  literature  and  of  scientific  inquiry 
has  however  been  proved  to  the  world,  and  as  the  same  may 
be  said  of  his  philological  proficiency,  those  who  knew  him 
socially  had  good  reason  to  admire  while  they  enjoyed  his 
conversation,  in  which  they  constantly  discovered  some  new 
proof  of  the  extent  of  his  knowledge.  Besides  being  master 
of  German  he  not  only  spoke  French  with  a  scarcely  per- 
ceptible English  accent,  but  wrote  it  with  ease,  correctness, 
and  even  elegance. 

That  he  was  intimately  familiar  with  German  literature  is 
pretty  generally  known  from  his  Life  of  Goethe  ;  but  he  had 
painstakingly  studied  Lessing  also,  and  spoke  with  enthu- 
siasm of  the  literary  genius  of  that  writer,  terming  him 
the  "  father  of  German  literature  and  the  prince  of  modern 
critics "  :  he  admired  his  style  beyond  everything,  and 
considered  that  its  lucidity  and  nobleness  of  expression 
afforded  a  valuable  standard  for  the  emulation  of  his 
countrymen,  evidently  finding  the  majority  of  them  more 
or  less  deficient  in  those  respects ;  nor  did  he  think  Les- 
sing's  qualifications  ought  to  be  lost  on  our  own  writers, 
asserting  that  modern  literature  generally  could  not  but. 
be  benefited  by  Lessing' s  influence.  I  have  heard  him 


GEORGE   HENEY  LEWES.  219- 

exalt  Nathan  der  Weise  on  a  lofty  pinnacle  of  commenda- 
tion, and  he  shared  Macaulay's  intense  admiration  for 
Lessing's  Laocoon. 

Of  letters  addressed  to  myself,  respectively  by  Lewes  and 
George  Eliot,  I  subjoin  one  or  two,  illustrative  of  the  plea- 
sant familiar- epistolary  style  they  each  employed.  George 
Eliot's  letters  were  always  signed  "  M.  E.  Lewes  "  or 
"  Marian  E.  Lewes,"  her  real  name  being  "  Mary  Ann ;" 
I  don't  know  if  the  "  E  "  stood  for  Evans. 

Though  essentially  literary,  both  these  thinkers  and 
writers  enjoyed  pleasures  from  other  sources.  George 
Eliot  was  well  versed  in  botany,  and  one  of  her  greatest 
delights  whenever  out  of  London,  was  collecting  from  and 
studying  the  vegetable  world  and  the  flora  of  all  the  spots 
she  visited,  while  George  Lewes  was  a  keen  entomologist, 
and  indeed  would  at  the  seaside  also  interest  himself  in 
searching  out  marine  creatures  of  all  kinds. 

"  THE  PRIORY,  NORTH  BANK,  KEGENT'S  PARK, 

"  2  September,  1870. 

"  MY  DEAR  -  — ,  -  -  You  are  very  good  to  remember  us,  and 
I  assure  you  that  the  substantial  signs  of  your  remembrance 
are  thoroughly  appreciated  ;  but  I  cannot  help  wishing 
that  our  visions  of  you  in  person  bore  a  fairer  proportion 
to  the  symbolic  appearances  in  the  shape  of  good  things. 
"  We  shall  not,  I  hope,  be  disappointed  in  our  expecta- 
tion of  you  next  Sunday.  ...  It  was  Mr.  Lewes's  feeble 
health  that  drove  us  away  again  after  our  return  from  a 
two  months'  absence  in  Germany,  but  I  am  glad  to  say  he 
is  better  now. 

"  Alas  !  this  war  !  it  is  hardly  possible  to  be  deeply  in- 
terested in  anything  else.     I  fear  our  friend  Madame  Belloc 
and  her  family  must  be  under  much  anxiety.    .    .    . 
"  Always,  dear  -   — , 

' '  Yours  most  truly, 

"  M.  E.  LEWES.'* 


•220  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

The  following  are  his  : — 

"  THE  PIIIOBY,  NORTH  BANK,  EEGENT'S  PARK, 

"  18/9'/70. 

MY  DEAR ,  How  very  kind  of  yon  to  send  me  this 

acceptable  game — were  it  not  difficult  to  be  ashamed  when 
the  object  is  pleasant,  I  should  grudge  myself  the  indul- 
gence in  such  dainties  while  our  friends  in  Paris  are  paying 
15  or  20  francs  for  a  tough  old  hen.  However,  I  suppose  I 
may  banish  qualms  when  I  reflect  that  J  didn't  bring  on  the 
siege  of  Paris. 

"  Is  not  Victor  Hugo's  last,  a  truly  Hugoish  bit  of  rhodo- 
montade ! 

"  Faithfully  yours, 

"  G.  H.  LEWES." 

"  THE  PRIORY,  NORTH  BANK, 
"-    -,  1869. 

"  MY  DEAR ,  I  have    not   the    slightest    doubt    that 

your  Salon  Bleu  would  not  only  instruct,  but  interest  the 
English  public,  could  the  said  public  be  got  to  read  it ;  but 
that  is  opposed,  first  by  the  regrettable  indisposition  of 
publishers  generally,  to  believe  in  pure  literature,  especially 
foreign,  and  secondly  by  the  indisposition  of  the  public  to 
believe  that  they  can  be  interested  in  it. 

"  Still,  your  work  is  so  nourri  and  so  varied,  that  I  should 
urge  on  you  its  completion ;  and  by  way  of  getting  over  the 
first  of  the  difficulties — that,  viz.,  of  the  publisher,  or  rather 
his  '  reader,'  may  I  take  the  liberty  of  suggesting  that  you 
translate  every  French  passage  of  more  than  a  couple  of 
lines  ? 

"  When  the  original  is  important  it  may  be  added  in  a 
note  ;  but  you,  to  whom  French  is  a  second  tongue,  have 
little  idea  of  the  obstacle  it  forms  to  ninety-seven  out  of 
every  hundred  readers.  Every  one  *  knows '  French — tant 
bien  que  mal,  ou  plutbt,  mal — but  they  feel  a  certain  foreign- 


GEORGE   ELIOT.  221 


ness  in  it,  and  when  suddenly  they  come  upon  a  passage- 
more  than  two  lines  long   .    .    .    well,  they  skip. 

"  Those  who  don't  know  French,  feel  offended,  and  resent 
it's  being  imposed  on  them.  .  .  . 

"  Ever  yours  faithfully, 

"  G.  H.  LEWES. 

"  P.S. — Robert  Lytton  and  his  charming  wife  are  coming 
to  us  to-day,  and  I  shall  gratify  her  by  betraying  your  admi- 
ration for  his  last  book." 

Both  George  Eliot  and  Lewes  were  singularly  unencum- 
bered with  personal  attractions,  nor  had  either  of  them 
recourse  to  the  adventitious  aid  of  dress  to  compensate  the 
deficiency ;  but  both  were  remarkable  for  a  courteous  and 
winning  manner,  and  they  received  with  much  grace. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  with  what  view  Mary 
Ann  Evans  adopted  a  masculine  pseudonym  when  becoming 
a  writer,  and  whether  her  intention  was  to  maintain  it  to  the 
end :  was  she  perhaps  of  the  subtly-expressed  opinion  of 
Alphonse  Karr,  that  "  when  a  woman  writes,  she  commits 
two  sins,  she  increases  the  number  of  books  and  diminishes 
the  number  of  women"?  Alas!  if  she  could  accomplish 
this  latter  feat,  the  more  books  she  could  write,  the  better ; 
and  I  say  this  without  being  a  misogynist,  the  preponder- 
ance being  really  disadvantageous  to  themselves. 

Experience  seems  to  tell  us  that  women  who  think  it 
politic  to  mystify  the  public  as  to  their  sex,  are  only  too 
glad,  if  their  works  become  popular,  to  let  the  truth  ooze 
out,  and  they  finally  throw  off  the  disguise  with  delight. 

I  don't  think  it  is  generally  known  that  George  Eliot 
published  in  London,  with  Messrs.  Triibner,  a  poem  called 
"Agatha";  it  was  first  tried  with  the  American  public, 
with  whom  it  did  not  take,  and  was  afterwards  either  sup- 
pressed or  died  a  natural  death,  but  was  never  circulated  in 
this  country.  Of  the  few  copies  that  were  not  despatched 
across  the  "herring  pond"  I  possess  one,  given  to  me  by 


222 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


Robert 
Curzon. 


George 
•Cruikshank. 


the  publisher.  However,  it  had  its  value,  for  in  January, 
1888,  a  copy  of  this  work  fetched,  at  a  book  sale  at  Sotheby's 
rooms,  the  extraordinary  sum  of  £10  9s.,  and  I  have  since 
seen  another  copy  advertised  at  £10  15s.  Since  then  it  has 
been  again  published  in  a  collection  of  her  poems,  if  her 
verses  can  be  called  "  poems." 

I  was  once  staying  at  a  country  house  where  Eobert 
Curzon  was  one  of  the  guests  ;  it  wras  just  after  he  had 
published  his  Monasteries  of  the  Levant.  Our  hostess — 
remarkable  for  her  wit — said  to  him  one  day— 

"I  suppose  you  mean  to  give  me  a  copy  of  your  book,  Mr. 
Curzon  ?  " 

"No,  indeed,  I  don't,"  said  he;  "I  don't  give  copies  to 
any  one." 

"  Is  that  your  last  word  ?  " 
"  Indeed  it  is." 

"Well,  then,"  she  rejoined,  "I'll  tell  you  what  I  shall 
do ;  I  shall  buy  a  copy,  and  I'll  lend  it  to  everybody." 

Mr.  Curzon  brought  with  him  a  Mahomedan  servant, 
whom  he  had  imported,  and  who  was  very  faithful  to  his 
master ;  wherever  he  went,  this  man  always  slept  on  a  mat 
outside  his  master's  door. 

At  first  our  hostess's  servants  did  not  relish  the  idea  of 
having  a  "  black,"  as  they  chose  to  term  him,  among  them, 
but  he  was  a  humorous  fellow,  and  in  the  end  became  a 
great  favourite  in  the  servants'  hall. 

After  Mr.  Curzon  had  left,  their  mistress  asked  them  how 
they  had  got  on  with  his  coloured  valet ;  they  confessed  to 
being  much  grieved  at  his  departure,  and  one  of  the  footmen 
remarked,  he  "  had  no  idea  a  Turkey  could  be  so  much  like 
a  Christian." 

I  once  met  old  George  Cruikshank  on  an  interesting  occa- 
sion, viz.,  at  the  Charterhouse,  where  Dr.  Eichardson  was  to 
give  a  very  picturesque  and  entertaining,  illustrated  lecture 
on  Stephen  Gray,  the  electrician  :  he  was  a  Charterhouse 
worthy,  and  really  the  discoverer  of  the  electric  telegraph, 


GEORGE   CBU1KSHANK.  223 

though  unfortunately  he  did  not  carry  his  researches  deep 
enough,  nor  work  his  experiment  far  enough  to  make  it 
practical,  for  he  stopped  at  seventy  yards  instead  of  con- 
veying the  communication  round  the  world.  As  it  is  always 
le  premier  pas  qui  coute,  poor  Stephen  Gray  may  be  said  to 
have  opened  and  paved  the  road  which  his  successors  (who 
gained  all  the  glory)  had  only  to  walk  along ;  but  is  not  this 
the  too  frequent  fate  of  inventors  ? 

The  lecture  over,  our  party,  consisting  of  Dr.  Eichardson, 
George  Cruikshank  and  his  wife,  Madame  Parkes  Belloc 
and  myself,  were  conducted  over  the  building  and  en- 
lightened on  some  very  interesting  details  of  its  history, 
after  which  we  took  tea  with  the  Principal  and  others  who 
had  also  been  invited  to  the  lecture.  Returning  by  rail  in 
the  same  carriage,  I  was  most  agreeably  entertained  by  the 
chat  I  had  with  Cruikshank.  As  he  was  born  in  1792,  he 
must  have  been  over  eighty,  and  had  something  of  the 
garrulity  of  age,  in  which  I  rejoiced,  as  all  he  said  was 
worth  hearing.  He  told  me  he  had  been  one  of  those 
who  joined  the  original  volunteer  movement  when  he  was 
eighteen  years  of  age  ;  a  French  invasion  being  to  him  a 
bate-noire  from  his  early  youth  upwards.  He  said  that  from 
the  time  he  could  hold  a  pencil,  his  great  delight  had  been 
drawing  political  caricatures,  and  he  then  began  his  artistic 
career  under  Fuseli  at  the  Royal  Academy.  Napoleon  L, 
he  added,  had  been  a  fortune  to  him,  and  he  had  turned 
him  inside  out  and  outside  in,  till  the  subject — if  so  arbi- 
trary a  despot  could  be  called  a  "  subject "  —was  thoroughly 
exhausted.  He  had  no  friendly  feeling  for  that  parvenu 
Emperor,  and  spoke  bitterly  and  contemptuously  of  his 
selfish,  merciless  character. 

Probably  it  was  this  feeling  that  inspired  him  with  the 
desire  again  to  join  the  Volunteers  in  the  hope  of  helping  to 
frustrate  the  threatened  invasion  of  England  by  the  second 
Emperor,  Napoleon  le  Petit.  When,  however,  he  shared 
in  the  revival  of  the  Volunteer  movement  he  was  thereby 


224  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

brought  into  an  unlooked-for  misfortune :  he  had  at  that 
time  realized  a  very  comfortable  little  independence,  but 
fell  into  sad  pecuniary  difficulties  through  the  dishonesty  of 
the  adjutant  of  his  regiment :  Euskin,  it  seems,  was  moved 
with  pity  at  seeing  him  in  so  woful  a  plight  and  under  the 
weight  of  advancing  years ;  and,  by  way  of  helping  him 
without  giving  him  offence,  ordered  of  him  a  quantity  of 
caricature  sketches,  paying  him  for  them  in  advance  at  the 
rate  of  five-and-twenty  pounds  each  :  nothing  could  be  more 
generous  and  delicate  than  this  mode  of  proceeding,  and  it- 
proved  of  great  service  to  poor  old  "  George,"  whose  vanity 
was  flattered  by  this  practical  appreciation  of  his  talent,  at 
the  same  time  that  his  purse  was  filled  by  the  liberality  of 
his  benefactor. 

Cruikshank  told  me  that  the  period  of  his  life  he  had 
enjoyed  most  was  that  during  which  he  was  engaged  in 
illustrating  books  for  children,  especially  the  old  traditional 
nursery  folk-lore.  The  Political  House  that  Jack  Built 
seemed  to  have  been  one  of  his  favourite  productions ;  but 
I  think  he  piqued  himself  more  on  the  ingenuity  and  also 
the  success  of  his  Temperance  pictures  than  on  any  of  his 
other  achievements.  In  fact,  he  seemed  to  have  got  "  Tem- 
perance "  on  the  brain,  as  it  became  quite  a  craze  with  him ; 
he  used  to  say,  and  no  doubt  to  believe,  that  the  publicans, 
in  order  to  entice  drinkers  within  their  doors,  sprinkled  the 
threshold  and  door-posts  with  spirits.  No  wonder  he  earned 
the  sobriquet  of  "  Teetotal  George  "  ! 

When  he  came  to  talk  of  his  illustrations  to  the  earlier 
numbers  of  Dickens's  works,  I  expressed  my  conviction  that 
by  his  clever  conception  of  the  different  characters,  his 
pencil  had  done  more  than  the  author's  pen,  to  attract 
the  public  and  to  fix  them  on  the  reader's  mind ;  and 
indeed  it  is  more  than  probable  that  the  popularity 
of  this  author  was  in  great  measure  due  to  the  irresis- 
tible humour  of  the  spirited  and  telling  sketches  which 
accompanied  them.  I  found  him,  however,  fully  alive 


CHAELES  DICKENS.  225 

to  the  merit  of  his  own  work,  and  when  he  added  that 
he  considered  Dickens  and  Ainsworth  his  auxiliaries  and 
not  himself,  theirs,  he  spoke  without  any  kind  of  affecta- 
tion, as  simply  giving  utterance  to  a  foregone  conclusion. 

I  have  met  these  two  popular  writers  as  well  as  their 
illustrator,  and  certainly  found  him  the  most  interesting  of 
the  three.  Cruikshank  died  in  1878. 

Charles  Dickens  was  once  by  chance  my  fellow-traveller  Charles 
on  the  Boulogne  packet ;  travelling  with  him.  was  a  lady  not 
his  wife,  nor  his  sister-in-law,  yet  he  strutted  about  the 
deck  with  the  air  of  a  man  bristling  with  self-importance  : 
every  line  of  his  face  and  every  gesture  of  his  limbs  seemed 
haughtily  to  say — "  Look  at  me ;  make  the  most  of  your 
chance.  I  am  the  great,  the  only,  Charles  Dickens ;  what- 
ever I  may  choose  to  do  is  justified  by  that  fact." 

When  we  landed,  the  luggage  (after  the  clumsy  fashion 
of  that  day)  was  tumbled  into  a  long  rough  shed  and  placed 
on  a  counter  to  be  searched.  I  happened  to  be  near  the 
spot  on  which  the  "  great  man's  "  boxes  had  been  deposited, 
and  as  he  walked  up  to  surrender  his  keys — 

"Owner?"  inquired  the  Custom-house  officer,  briefly 
and  bluffly. 

"I  am,"  answered  the  only  Dickens,  in  a  consequential  tone. 

"  Name  ?  "  said  the  official,  as  bluntly  as  before. 

"  Name  I  "  repeated  the  indignant  proprietor  of  the  same, 
"  '  what  NAME  ?  ' — did  you  say?  "  reiterated  he,  in  a  voice 
which  meant — "  Why  don't  you  look  at  me  instead  of  asking 
such  an  absurd  question  ?  ':  But  the  man  stood  there 
stolidly,  with  his  lump  of  chalk  in  his  hand  waiting  for 
the  answer,  which  had  to  come,  nolens  volens  :  "  Why  t 
CHAELES  DICKENS,  to  be  sure  !  " 

To  Master  Dickens's  mortification,  the  name  and  the 
tone  alike  failed  to  produce  any  impression  on  the  pre- 
occupied official,  who  continued  unmoved  the  dull  routine 
of  his  duty  :  had  the  douanier  been  one  of  the  other  sex, 
the  result  might  have  been  different. 

VOL.    I.  16 


226  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

A  friend  of  mine  whose  countenance — perhaps  it  was  the 
cut  of  his  beard — might  by  a  stretch  of  imagination  be  said 
to  bear  some  resemblance  to  that  of  Charles  Dickens,  told 
me  that  having  lunched  at  a  Station-refreshment-bar  one 
day,  he  had  drawn  out  his  purse  to  settle  the  account,  when 
the  "  young  lady  "  of  the  counter,  with  bashful  gestures, 
absolutely  declined  accepting  any  payment ;  she  had  shown 
herself  obsequiously  attentive,  and  now  begged  he  would 
freely  help  himself  to  anything  he  required  "  free,  gracious, 
for  nothing."  His  astonishment  was  great,  and  was  not 
diminished  when  he  found  that  he  had  been  actually  mis- 
taken for  Charles  Dickens,  and  in  that  character  was  not 
required  to  liquidate  his  expenses  !  He  hastened  to  assure 
the  sentimental  barmaid  that  if,  which  he  begged  to  doubt, 
he  resembled  the  people's  novelist  in  feature,  he  entirely 
differed  from  him  in  principle,  and  had  no  wish  to  avail 
himself  of  adventitious  circumstances  to  shirk  payment  of  a 
just  debt. 

As  a  rule,  the  private  life  of  a  public  man  ought  perhaps 
to  be  protected  from  the  curiosity  of  the  world ;  but  when, 
having  made  himself  a  public  man,  he  has  the  bad  taste  to 
parade  the  unwarrantable  acts  of  his  private  life  so  as  to 
give  public  scandal,  his  conduct  cannot  escape  criticism, 
and  with  it,  the  censure  it  has  earned. 

It  is  very  possible  that  the  wife  of  Charles  Dickens  may, 
in  consequence  of  his  own  altered  proclivities  and  position 
subsequently  to  his  marriage,  have  become  unsuited  to  him, 
but  should  that  have  been  visited  upon  her?  None  who 
know  the  history  of  her  outraged  life,  can  respect  Dickens 
as  a  man,  however  much  they  may  admire  him  as  a  writer. 
The  members  of  his  family  held  their  own  views  as  to  his 
heartlessness ;  for,  even  allowing  for  the  lowness  of  his 
antecedents  and  origin,  his  deficient  education  and  his 
recognized  lack  of  the  instincts  of  a  gentleman,  no  one  can 
afford  to  overlook  his  immoral  life,  his  unchastened  vanity, 
and  selfishness,  and  the  presumption  with  which  he  blazoned 


DICKENS'S   GEANDMOTHEE.  227 

forth  his  indifference  to  the  feelings  of  those  he  injured, 
to  the  opinion  of  the  world,  and  to  the  sacredness  of  his 
own  vows. 

Yet  this  is  the  man  whose  delinquencies  the  world  chooses 
to  ignore  because  he  amuses  them,  and  of  whom  Mr.  T.  A. 
Trollope  can  write  as  follows  : — "  .  .  .  He  was  a  hearty 
man,  a  large-hearted  man,  that  is  to  say,  he  was  perhaps  the 
largest-hearted  man  I  ever  knew.  .  .  .  His  benevolence,  his 
active,  energizing  desire  for  good  to  all  God's  creatures,  and 
restless  anxiety  to  be  in  some  way  active  for  the  achieving 
of  it,  were  unceasing  and  busy  in  his  heart  ever  and  always  ! " 
This  writer  evidently  tried  to  say  the  best  he  could  of  him, 
but  at  the  expense  of  what  simple  folk  would  call  truth  and 
honesty. 

I  think  it  was  in  The  Daily  Neivs  I  saw  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Wemyss  Eeid  giving  an  account  of  the  grandmother  of 
Charles  Dickens  to  the  effect  that  "  old  Mrs.  Dickens  was 
housekeeper  at  Crewe  in  the  time  of  the  first  Lord  Crewe — 
grandfather  of  the  present  holder  of  the  title,  and  of  the 
first  Lady  Houghton,  his  sister.  I  well  remember,"  says 
the  writer,  "  Lady  Houghton  speaking  to  me  with  enthusiasm 
of  Mrs.  Dickens's  powers  as  a  story-teller.  It  was  her 
delight,  as  a  child,  to  listen  to  the  tales  which  the  old  lady 
was  able  to  relate  with  so  much  dramatic  force  and  feeling ; 
and  it  was  with  the  greatest  interest  that,  later  on  in  life, 
Lady  Houghton  recognized  in  the  illustrious  author  of  David 
Copper  field,  the  grandson  of  the  favourite  of  her  childhood." 

"  Old  Mrs.  Dickens  had  one  grievance  which  Lady 
Houghton  still  recalled  when  she  told  me  about  her.  It 
was  the  conduct  of  her  son  John — Charles's  father — against 
whose  idleness  and  general  incapacity  she  was  never  tired  of 
inveighing." 

Of  that  once  popular  writer,  Harrison  Ains worth,  I  have  Harrison 
an  earlier  recollection.     I  used  to  meet  him  in  society  in 
my  far-off  youth,  and  once  happening  to  sit  next  him  at  a 
-dinner,  I  remember  being  struck  with  the  occasional  flashes 


228  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

which  lighted  up  his  features  and  added  a  brilliancy  to  his 
conversation.  Such  readers  of  his  historical  romances  as 
survive  will  recognize  this  phase  of  his  character ;  but  his 
works,  notwithstanding  the  warmth  with  which  they  were 
welcomed  are  now  almost  numbered  with  things  of  the  pastr 
and  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  present  generation  is  much 
acquainted  even  with  their  titles.  The  signal  success  they 
met  with  at  the  time,  was  in  a  great  measure  owing  to  the 
refreshing  change  they  brought  in  the  light  literature  of  the 
day.  Readers  were  satiated  with  sentimental  love  stories, 
and  Harrison  Ainswrorth  wisely  seized  the  opportunity  to 
introduce  a  description  of  novel  which  should  develop  a  new 
class  of  interest.  The  fascination  of  his  style  won  upon  the 
reader,  and  each  successive  production  was  eagerly  looked 
for  and  enthusiastically  received.  Thus,  it  was  not  long 
before  the  author  had  raised  himself  to  an  enviable  social y 
as  well  as  financial  position.  His  origin  and  antecedents  had 
been  but  humble,  and  his  early  life  was  one  of  considerable 
drudgery,  so  that  his  advancement  was  due  entirely  to  his 
own  courage,  initiative,  intelligence,  and  industry.  Aius- 
worth  was  necessarily,  when  he  first  started  in  a  literary 
career,  a  superficial  writer,  his  education  having  been  of 
a  very  imperfect  character,  but  he  was  clever  enough,  in 
writing  historical  romances,  to  present  his  heroes  as  partly 
creations  of  his  own  imagination,  and  his  events  as  simply 
founded  on  fact.  Writing  led  to  reading,  and  as  he  advanced 
he  gradually  made  himself  master  of  History  "  as  she  is- 
written  "  and  accepted — though  probably  Harrison  Ains- 
worth's  versions  have  as  much  truth  in  them  as  any  of  the 
accredited  historical  records  in  which  we  are  taught  to 
believe  :  Byron's  opinion  of  "  History,  that  great  liar,"  was. 
not  far  wrong. 

Ainsworth's  poetry,  signed  "Cheviot  Tichborne,"  appeared 
in  the  desultory  form  of  fugitive  pieces  in  the  periodicals  of 
his  early  days,  but  though  it  led  him  to  the  ladder  of  fame, 
did  not  much  aid  him  in  mounting  it,  and  is  now  altogether 


HARRISON  AINSWORTH.  229 

forgotten,  though  the  "  poetical  license  "  he  allowed  himself 
with  historical  personages  and  events,  speaks  well  for  the 
fertility  of  his  imagination.  As  he  wrote  for  the  million, 
sensationalism  was  de  rigueur,  and  taking  two  notorious 
highwaymen  for  the  heroes  of  two  of  his  novels,  he  manipu- 
lated their  adventures  with  so  much  skill,  vigour,  and 
romance,  that  these  volumes  became  the  best  known  and 
the  most  popular  of  his  works.  They  were  subsequently 
dramatized  and  attracted  crowds  to  the  theatres,  so  success- 
fully had  the  author  drawn  to  these  criminals,  the  interest 
.and  sympathy  of  the  populace. 

Happily,  having  had  their  run,  Dick  Turpin  and  Jack 
Sheppard  fell  into  oblivion,  but  it  was  only  temporarily ; 
for,  strange  to  say,  at  the  very  time  when  the  lower  orders 
were  being  inevitably  demoralized  by  the  perpetration  of  a 
series  of  crimes  of  unexampled  boldness  and  atrocity,  and 
the  whole  of  society  was  more  or  less  disorganized  by  their 
horrible  mysteriousness,  the  adventures  of  the  desperate 
highway  robber  were  resuscitated,  and  the  former  drama 
was  once  more  put  on  the  stage  with  every  accessory  that 
could  render  it  attractive  ! 

However,  we  must  do  the  author  the  justice  to  say  that 
,all  his  romances  were  not  of  this  character;  some  indeed 
shine  by  the  healthiness  of  their  tone,  and  justify  the  pride 
taken  in  him  by  the  inhabitants  of  Manchester,  who  remem- 
bering the  unpretentious  character  of  his  early  occupations 
as  compared  with  the  brilliancy  of  his  later  circumstances, 
•considered  he  had  cast  a  lustre  on  his  native  city,  and  availed 
themselves  of  the  first  appropriate  occasion  to  give  a  public 
•dinner  in  his  honour,  at  which  they  showed  him  every  mark 
•of  kindly  appreciation. 

I  can  recall  Harrison  Ainsworth's  physique,  which  was 
remarkable  ;  he  was  a  fine,  tall,  handsome,  well-whiskered 
fellow,  with  a  profusion  of  chestnut  curls,  and  bore  himself 
with  no  inconsiderable  manifestation  of  self-consciousness. 
There  was  a  certain  want  of  refinement  in  his  manner  as 


230  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUKY. 

well  as  his  appearance,  which  would  perhaps  have  been  less 
noticeable  had  he  not  set  up  for  a  double  of  d'Orsay,  to 
whom  he  may  be  said  to  have  borne  some  resemblance ;  but. 
it  was  a  very  coarsened  copy,  sometimes  almost  a  caricature. 
This  particularly  applies  to  the  absurdly  exaggerated  mode 
he  adopted  of  throwing  out  his  chest  and  exhibiting  a, 
large  expanse  of  dazzlingly  white  shirt-front,  planished,, 
decorated  with  jewelled  studs,  and  emerging  from  a  gilet 
en  cosur  which  followed  in  material  and  pattern,  whatever 
d'Orsay  had  pleased  to  adopt ;  it  was  therefore  generally 
very  gorgeous  :  all  this  would,  however,  have  been  incom- 
plete had  not  the  wearer  acquired  the  peculiar  d'Orsay 
knack  of  throwing  open  his  coat  to  display  the  long-con- 
sidered detail ;  and  here  it  was,  the  difference  between  the 
two  men  was  seen.  D'Orsay  knew  how  to  "  snatch  a  grace 
beyond  the  reach  of  art,"  and,  however  studied  his  toilette,. 
never  appeared  conscious  of  what  he  was  wearing,  whereas- 
his  imitator  did  not,  perhaps  could  not,  contrive  to  conceal 
the  fact  that  he  was  trying  to  produce  an  effect,  and  that 
his  thoughts  were  more  or  less  occupied  about  it,  all  the  time. 
As  years  went  on,  Harrison  Ainsworth  married,  and 
ultimately  became  a  steady  old  paterfamilias.  This  ci- 
devant  elegant  lived  on  to  the  age  of  eighty-one,  and  died 
a  broken-down,  but  venerable,  snow-headed  old  man. 
Hepworth  I*1  the  career  of  Ainsworth's  contemporary,  Hepworth 

Dixon,  there  were  many  points  of  similarity  to  his  own ;  but 
not  in  his  stature  or  appearance,  for  there  was  nothing 
imposing  in  Dixon's  exterior.  Both  rose  from  humble 
origins  and  the  drudgery  of  commonplace  occupations, 
neither  having  been  destined  for  a  literary  position,  and 
both  climbed  into  literature  by  laborious  steps.  Both 
started  with  the  expedient  of  supplying  poetical  contribu- 
tions to  second-rate  (and  now  long  defunct)  periodicals,  but 
though  these  effusions  are  buried  and  forgotten  it  was 
their  tombstones  that  constituted  the  steps  by  which  their 
writers  ultimately  attained  to  fame. 


HEPWORTH  DIXON.  231 

Dixon's  ambition  brought  him  early  to  the  Metropolis, 
where  he  took  both  life  and  literature  more  seriously  than 
his  contemporary  historical  romancist,  for  he  not  only  wrote 
historical  works  of  a  graver  and  more  practical  character,  but 
he  mounted  the  platform  as  an  historical  lecturer.  This  was 
a  mistake,  for  although  a  painstaking  and  conscientious 
writer,  he  possessed  none  of  those  personal  accessories 
indispensable  to  effective  oratory,  and  did  not  shine  in 
elocution,  his  delivery  being  deficient  and  his  voice  unsuited 
for  public  speaking. — 

"Nam  neque  chorda  sonum  reddit  quern  vult  manus  et  mens." 

He  was  not  a  scholar,  but,  being  gifted  with  more  than 
average  intelligence,  a  certain  breadth  of  mind,  and  in- 
domitable energy,  he  took  the  initiative  in  many  important 
public  measures,  devoting  time,  thought,  and  ingenuity  to 
philanthropic  reforms,  and  advocating  them  ably  with  his 
pen.  Like  Harrison  Ainsworth,  he  was  an  extraordinarily 
voluminous  writer,  but  he  was  not  always  accurate,  though 
he  read  and  studied  his  subject  diligently. 

I  remember  hearing  his  lecture  on  the  Tower  of  London, 
delivered  at  the  Royal  Institution,  and  was  not  the  only 
listener  who  found  it  disappointing. 

Dixon,  from  being  on  the  staff  of  The  AtJienceum  became 
its  editor.  He  distinguished  himself  by  his  papers  on 
schools,  reformatories,  and  prisons,  and  was  an  advocate  for 
public  "  education  "  ;  but,  like  many  others  who  started  the 
idea  on  a  common-sense  basis,  would  certainly  be  very  much 
horrified  at  his  participation  in  that  ill-managed  movement 
if  he  could  see  the  abuses  by  which  it  has  been,  and  is  being, 
turned  into  a  disaster  instead  of  a  benefit. 

Being  of  a  Nonconformist  race  he  busied  himself  much 
about  Dissenters,  and  took  considerable  trouble  to  prove  that 
William  Penn.  was  not  Thomas  Penn,  though  the  result  of 
his  labours  was  far  from  satisfactory. 

It  is  probable  that  Hepworth  Dixon  did  not  get  full  credit 


282  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

for  all  there  was  in  him ;  he  impressed  one  as  being  slight 
and  superficial,  though  his  writings  betray  considerable 
erudition,  .  .  .  or — a  vast  amount  of  "  cram."  But  what 
writer  is  there  who  retains  in  his  mind  the  knowledge 
imparted  in  his  pages  ?  Even  the  great  lexicographer,  when 
questioned  on  derivations  or  orthography,  was  wont  to  refer 
the  inquirers  to  his  dictionary.  Dixon's  last  completed  work 
was  a  pamphlet  to  prove — not  like  A.rchbishop  Whately's 
celebrated  logical  tour  de  force,  that  Napoleon  I.  never 
personally  existed,  but  that  Napoleon  III.  never  intended 
to  invade  England.  This  was  hardly  worth  proving,  for  such 
an  "intention"  could  not  possibly  be  of  the  least  impor- 
tance ...  to  England ;  it  was  one  of  those  possibilities 
which  "  might  have  been  unfortunate  for  the  coo." 

Hepworth  Dixon's  visit  to  the  Salt  Lake  (for  he  seems  to 
have  travelled  in  all  directions)  and  his  researches  among 
the  Mormons  supplied  matter  for  a  very  interesting  volume, 
containing  elaborate  details  as  to  the  surprising  number  of 
sects  and  tenets  he  studied ;  the  most  curious,  perhaps, 
being  that  which  has  assumed  the  self-satisfied  title  of 
"  Perfectionists,"  whose  practice  would  undoubtedly  find 
favour  in  the  present  day,  supported  by  a  code  of  morals 
which  seems  to  solve  the  enigma  of  Plato's  republic,  and 
enjoins  a  community  of  wives  ! 

His  book  called  Spiritual  Wives,  however,  gave  great 
umbrage  to  British  propriety  and  considerably  damaged  its 
author's  popularity ;  but  this  only  afford  another  proof  of  the 
subjectivity  of  things,  seeing  that,  at  the  present  time,  we, 
as  a  civilized  community,  have  got  on  so  fast  that,  a  few 
years  after,  we  are  publicly  discussing  the  expediency  of  the 
marriage  bond !  Now,  therefore,  that  we  have  improved 
away  all  the  old-fashioned  social  scruples  which  once 
regarded  the  influences  of  family-life  as  essential,  it  is 
probable  that  a  new  edition  of  Hepworth  Dixon's  once 
ostracised  work  would  prove  a  lucrative  speculation.  This 
must  depend,  however,  upon  the  social  influence  of  those 


WINTHROP  MACKWORTH  PRAED.  233 

•demoralized  beings  who  are  doing  their  little  best  to  write 
up  the  merits  and  advantages  of  "  Free  Love  "  ! 

Hepworth  Dixon  contrived  to  get  on  in  society,  though 
his  manner  was  not  altogether  agreeable,  and  he  undoubtedly 
made  enemies  by  his  vanity  and  his  too  palpable  attempts 
to  be  cleverly  satirical.  As  long  as  he  edited  The  Atlienaum 
he  could  fire  off  his  smart  criticisms  with  effect,  but  once 
deprived  of  literary  power  he  began  to  find  he  must  abandon 
his  reputation  for  "  smartness."  He  was  not  a  really  ill- 
natured  man,  but  could  not  resist  the  self- gratification  of 
showing  off  his  wit.  However,  the  last  few  years  of  his  life 
came  burdened  with  so  much  sorrow  that  we  forget  the 
asperities  of  his  character  in  a  profound  commiseration  for 
his  misfortunes.  We  see  him  sitting  despondently,  like  Job, 
in  all  the  depression  of  sorrow,  age,  and  ill-health,  while  one 
messenger  follows  another  with  the  announcement  of  a  fresh 
disaster,  mercilessly  fallen  upon  him.  He  had  imprudently — 
but  who  does  not  commit  financial  imprudences  ? — invested 
all  his  savings  in  Turkish  Bonds  and  his  loss  was  disastrous  ; 
while  trying  to  supplement  the  little  he  had  left,  by  a  new 
work  he  was  preparing  for  the  press  (Old  Windsor),  his  house 
in  St.  James's  Terrace,  Eegent's  Park,  was  blown  up  by  the 
•explosion  on  the  Canal ;  in  the  midst  of  these  misfortunes 
he  received  news  of  the  death  of  his  eldest  daughter, 
followed  by  that  of  the  sudden  death  of  his  eldest  son. 

With  a  courage,  wre  cannot  but  admire,  he  sought  distrac- 
tion in  work ;  but  while  sitting  up  in  his  sick-bed,  correcting 
his  proof-sheets,  he  suddenly  expired. 

A  writer  of  this  date,  whose  daughter  I  knew,  but  only 
after  her  father's  death,  was  Winthrop  Mackworth  Praed. 
This  daughter  married  a  Greek  and  left  the  country  some 
years  ago.  I  always  regretted  not  having  met  her  father, 
whose  poems  are  (for  the  most  part)  really  poems,  full  of 
grace,  taste,  humour,  and  feeling,  and  deserve  to  be  better 
known.  A  friend  of  mine,  a  distinguished  Indian  General, 
told  me  that  once,  when  a  boy  of  twelve,  he  was  so  smitten 


234  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

with  a  poem  of  Praed's,  which  appeared  in  some  periodical 
or  annual,  that  he  ventured  to  write  to  its  author  and  express, 
his  delight.  To  his  immense  gratification,  the  poet  con- 
descended to  reply,  and  most  kindly,  to  his  boyish  effusion. 
He  had  always  kept  this  answer  which  he  once  showed  me ; 
I  am  sorry  I  did  not  take  a  copy  of  it.  Alas  !  he  is  dead 
now,  and  Praed  passed  away  in  1839.  It  is  to  be  deplored 
that  so  much  that  this  poet  wrote  should  have  become 
irretrievably  buried  in  the  forgotten  pages  of  ephemeral 
publications. 

Mrs.  Jameson.  I  was  once,  many  years  ago,  in  company  with  Mrs, 
Jameson,  who  did  not  personally  realize  the  idea  I  had  pre- 
viously formed  of  her.  Her  conversation  in  itself  was  pleasant 
in  tone  and  matter,  but  was  just  conventional  enough  to 
suggest  something  of  the  poseuse ;  this  may  have  been  the 
result  of  that  species  of  nervousness  which  sometimes  besets 
the  very  individuals  one  would  expect  to  find  the  most  self- 
possessed  ;  those  who  knew  her  well,  have  told  me  that  her 
disposition  was  extremely  amiable ;  her  position  in  the  world 
of  art  and  literature  was  a  fully  recognized  one,  and  such  as- 
to  supersede  any  need  to  affect  false  modesty  on  the  one 
hand,  or  self-sufficiency  on  the  other. 

I  never  saw  Mr.  Jameson,  who  seems  to  have  had  little  or 
no  qualification  to  entitle  him  to  celebrity  of  any  kind,  and 
can  have  been  known  only  as  "  Mrs.  Jameson's  husband." 
As  far  as  I  recollect,  they  married  under  the  auspices  of  some 
common  friend,  who  persuaded  them  they  were  "made  for 
each  other,"  but  a  very  few  weeks  proved  that  she  knew 
nothing  about  the  matter,  for  Mr.  Jameson  having  obtained 
a  business,  or  Government,  appointment  at  Toronto  betook 
himself  thither,  leaving  his  bride  behind  him,  thus  rather 
abruptly  terminating  a  brief  honeymoon.  After  a  time  she 
was  persuaded  to  join  him  as  a  matter  of  duty ;  but  although 
she  at  once  complied  with  the  suggestion  and  went,  she  had 
reason  to  find  that,  for  the  second  time,  her  matrimonial 
adviser  had  put  her  on  a  wrong  track :  a  reunion  did  not 


MRS.   JAMESON.  235- 


take  place,  although,  having  crossed  the  Atlantic,  she 
remained  in  Canada  some  time. 

Mrs.  Jameson's  ability  as  a  writer,  though  widely  recog- 
nized, did  not  suffice  to  place  her  in  independent  circum- 
stances ;  her  father,  Mr.  Murphy,  a  clever  miniaturist,  and 
patronized  by  the  Princess  Charlotte,  had  left  her  and  her 
three  sisters  in  a  position  far  from  affluent ;  the  youngest 
alone  married,  and  as  the  other  two  grew  older,  Mrs.  Jame- 
son thought  it  right  to  assist  them,  and  behaved  with  great 
liberality,  so  that  finally  her  circumstances  became  very 
much  embarrassed  and  she  had  little  besides  her  small 
pension  from  the  Civil  List  to  depend  on.  This  pension 
was,  after  her  death,  through  the  exertions  of  friends,  con- 
tinued to,  and  divided  between,  the  two  unmarried  sisters 
who  had  long  been  dependent  upon  her.  Mrs.  Jameson's 
friends,  who  were  not  only  numerous,  but  zealous  in  her 
behalf,  joined  in  getting  up  for  her  a  testimonial  fund  and 
succeeded  in  collecting  £1,000,  with  which,  I  believe,  an 
annuity  was  purchased.  She  was  then  sixty-five,  and  the 
arrangement  proved  an  unfortunate  one,  as  she  survived  it. 
only  two  years. 

I  have  heard  an  anecdote  on  the  subject  of  this  testi- 
monial, but  think  it  must  be  apocryphal,  to  the  effect  that, 
as  soon  as  the  sum  had  rounded  itself  off  into  £1, 000,  Mrs, 
B.  W.  Procter  undertook  to  communicate  to  her  this  result r 
asking  her  at  the  same  time  if  she  would  like  to  have  it  in 
the  form  of  a  diamond  bracelet.  If  this  could  possibly  be- 
true,  Mrs.  Jameson  must  have  been  strangely  puzzled  at  a 
suggestion  so  violently  out  of  character  with  the  circum- 
stances, but  it  is  said  that  she  replied — "Let  me  enjoy  the 
pleasure  of  gratitude." 

At  the  time  of  her  death  Mrs.  Jameson  was  engaged  on  an 
elaborate  work — The  Illustrated  Life  of  Our  Lord,  subse- 
quently completed  by  Lady  Eastlake.  Mrs.  Jameson  had 
a  niece  who  was  married  to  Mr.  Macpherson,  the  much- 
approved  photographer  in  Eome.  She  was  a  bright,  pleasant- 


236  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

little  woman,  an  excellent  wife  and  mother,  and  popular 
among  English  and  American  visitors  to  the  Eternal  City. 
She  died  comparatively  young,  but  survived  her  husband 
two  or  three  years. 

Mrs  I  met  this  niece  not  long   before  her  death,  which  was 

oiiphant.  quite  unexpected,  during  a  visit  she  paid  to  England,  at  the 
house  of  Mrs.  Oiiphant  (the  popular  and  attractive  writer)  at 
Windsor ;  Madame  Parkes  Belloc  was  there,  and  it  proved 
a  very  pleasant  little  luncheon  party.  Mrs.  Oiiphant  was 
charming,  amiable,  and  spirituelle,  and,  as  we  all  knew 
Eome,  all  had  interesting  notes  to  compare.  Mrs.  Oliphant's 
house  was  delightful  in  its  unconventionality,  consisting  of 
two  small  tenements  thrown  into  one,  with  the  happiest 
result,  and  furnished  tastefully  and  with  much  artistic  feeling. 
Sir  Thomas  A  few  years  ago  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Hardy  were  re- 
DuffusHardy.  sj^mg  a^  a  pretty  villa  surrounded  with  its  own  grounds, 
not  far  from  "  The  Priory  "  in  St.  John's  Wood  :  their 
Saturday  evenings  were  planned  to  assemble  a  small  gather- 
ing of  literary,  and  often  (it  must  be  admitted)  other,  ac- 
quaintances, accustomed  to  meet  each  other  and  to  be 
welcomed  by  the  genial  smile  of  old  Sir  Thomas  :  though 
ageing  rapidly — for  he  was  born  with  the  century — he 
retained  all  his  faculties,  and  with  them  the  quick  intelligence 
which  had  long  distinguished  him,  first  in  his  prepara- 
tion, and  then  in  his  practical  performance,  of  his  official 
work.  No  one  could  have  been  chosen,  the  employment 
of  whose  previous  life  had  been  a  better  preparation  for 
the  duties  which  fell  to  him  ;  he  seemed  to  have  been 
born  with  a  taste  for  archeology.  Even  as  a  boy,  his  great 
delight  was  in  paleography,  and  he  showed  the  greatest 
perseverance  in  puzzling  out  and  deciphering  ancient  MSS., 
inscriptions,  and  hieroglyphics ;  the  care  of  public  papers 
oould,  therefore,  hardly  have  been  committed  to  more 
appropriate  hands.  Petrie  had  given  him  valuable  help, 
and  on  the  retirement  of  that  able  functionary,  Hardy 
undertook  the  compilation  of  the  Munimenta  Historica, 


SIK   THOMAS  DUFFUS  HARDY.  237 

and  while  at  the  Tower  arranged  several  issues  of  reports 
on  the  Public  Kecords  :  when,  in  1861,  Sir  Francis  Palgrave 
was  removed  by  death,  the  post  of  Deputy-Custodian  of 
the  Public  Records  was  given  to  him.  It  was  then  that 
he  began  the  compilation  of  his  admirable  Catalogue, 
with  an  invaluable  description  of  certain  documents  held 
by  him,  to  serve  as  materials  for  a  history  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland.  His  Catalogue  of  the  Lords  Chan- 
cellors, Keepers  of  the  Great  Seal,  is  also  a  most  accurate 
and  useful  work. 

It  was  Sir  Thomas  who  pointed  out  to  the  Master  of  the 
Eolls  the  importance  of  forming  the  "  Rolls  Series,"  of 
critical  editions  of  the  old  Chronicles,  on  account  of  their 
bearing  011  English  history,  and  who  persuaded  him  to  take 
the  matter  in  hand. 

Sir  Thomas  Duffus  Hardy  died  in  1878,  but  not  till  he 
had  achieved  an  honourable  reputation  as  having  rendered 
considerable  public  service  in  his  official  duties,  which  he 
carried  out  with  accuracy,  intelligence,  and  conscientious- 
ness. In  private  society  he  was  charming  :  gentle,  amiable, 
and,  though  always  full  of  information,  as  simple  as  a  child. 

Lady  Hardy,  his  second  wife,  whom  I  knew,  was  the 
writer  of  many  popular  novels,  and  their  daughter,  still  sur- 
viving, pursues  the  same  class  of  literature  as  her  mother. 
Sir  Thomas's  health  became  feeble,  and  required  great  care; 
Lady  Hardy  was  so  observant  of  all  that  could  affect  it, 
that,  among  other  precautions,  she  carefully  regulated  his 
hours  of  rest,  and  her  Saturday  receptions  were  limited  to 
the  interval  between  eight  and  eleven  o'clock.  Of  the 
strict  observance  of  this  rule  due  notice  was  given ;  but  at 
the  striking  of  the  latter  hour,  the  gas  was  rigidly  turned 
off,  as  well,  I  may  add,  as  the  company  :  in  summer,  the 
evenings  were  partly  spent  out  of  doors  in  the  grounds. 

I  often  met  Carlyle  in  the  London  Library,  of  which  he 

Carlyle 

was  President,  and  never  saw  him  without  renewed  interest 
of  a  certain  kind ;  bis  peculiarities  were  so  peculiar.     Philoso- 


•238  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

phical  as  were  his  written  sentiments,  one  would  have 
expected  to  find  in  his  life  some  practical  trace  of  their 
•elevated  tone.  Alas  !  this  correspondence  between  words 
and  actions  was  far  from  accurate  in  his  case ;  and  even  if 
his  confidential  biographer  had  not  completed  the  dis- 
illusion, the  self-betrayals  in  his  last  will  and  testament 
would  have  sufficed  to  disclose  important  and  suggestive 
traits  of  character. 

The  curt  mode  in  which  Henry  Greville  dismisses  this 
worthy,  in  a  paragraph  of  his  Memoirs,  is  as  good  a  satire  as 
•ever  was  made  on  a  pseudo-philosopher:  "Dined  at  the 
Ashburtons,  where  met  Carlyle,  whom  I  .had  never  seen 
before.  He  talks  the  broadest  Scotch,  and  appears  to 
have  coarse  manners,  but  might  perhaps  be  amusing  at 
times." 

Carlyle,  however,  to  give  him  his  due,  certainly  did 
behave  with  singular  philosophy  on  the  very  trying  occasion 
when  J.  Stuart  Mill,  having  undertaken  to  read  over  the 
manuscript  of  the  third  volume  of  his  History  of  the  French 
Revolution,  came  one  day  in  utter  consternation  to  tell  him 
•"  it  had  somehow  got  destroyed  !  " 

Mill's  voice  was  so  broken  and  his  countenance  so  dis- 
turbed when  he  made  this  terrible  communication,  that 
Carlyle,  touched  by  his  distress,  magnanimously  resolved 
that  he  should  never  know  how  serious  the  matter  was  to 
him.  He  had  written  it  off  currente  calamo  (after  pro- 
foundly studying  the  subject,  and  reading  every  trustworthy 
authority  he  could  find)  entirely  from  the  impression 
received  from  this  variety  of  sources,  and  had  not  kept  a 
single  note  to  refer  to  for  matter  that  could  help  him  to 
rewrite  it ;  indeed,  more  than  a  year  passed  before  he  could 
make  up  his  mind  to  go  to  work  upon  it  again.  He  finally 
did  take  it  up,  however,  and  with  what  success,  an  admiring 
public  knows. 

This  incident  in  Carlyle's  life  deserves  to  be  not  only 
recorded,  but  considered.  It  suggests  a  compensating 


THOMAS  CAELYLE.  239 

feature  in  that  gnarled  character  which  betrayed  itself  so 
unmistakeably  on  his  gnarled  face. 

It  is  curious  to  note  in  the  Life  and  Correspondence  of 
Lord  Houghton,  the  high  estimation  in  which  Carlyle  was 
held  by  him ;  his  regard  and  admiration  cannot  but  seem 
exaggerated,  especially  now  that  we  know  so  much  more 
of  the  "  Chelsea  philosopher's  "  real  character. 

Many  of  the  quaint  and  clever  things  put  forth  by  Carlyle 
deserve  to  be  treasured ;  but  among  them  not  one  shows 
more  common  sense  than  his  remark  that  "  any  book  found 
to  be  published  without  an  index  should  be  immediately 
put  into  the  fire."  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  Carlyle  could 
not  find  a  publisher  for  his  Sartor  Resartus.  He  hawked  it 
about  to  every  member  of  the  profession ;  and  it  was  only 
after  publishing  fragments  of  it  in  Fraser  that  he  could  get 
it  taken  at  all,  and  then  on  very  disadvantageous  terms : 
yet  nothing  can  be  more  admirable  or  more  fascinating 
than  Carlyle's  theoretical  philosophy,  well  exemplified  in 
his  Past  and  Present. 

Among  the  guests  who  used  in  my  youth  to  frequent  a 
beautiful  villa  on  the  Thames,  occupied  by  an  old  family 
friend,  were  some  of  the  fast  and  fashionable  celebrities  of 
the  times.  Of  these  I  remember,  among  others,  Count 
d'Orsay,  Thomas  Slingsby  Duncombe,  Dillon  Browne,  Sir  Lytton 
Edward  and  Lady  Bulwer  and  their  young  daughter  Emily,  Bulwer- 
then  about  ten  years  old.  The  host  also  had  a  daughter 
called  Emily,  of  about  the  same  age,  and,  being  an  engaging 
child,  she  was  much  noticed  by  "  the  author  of  Pelliam" 
as  he  liked  to  be  called.  One  day  he  took  the  child  on  his 
knee,  which  proved  a  not  very  comfortable  seat ;  for,  though 
much  of  a  dandy,  he  was  tall  and  gaunt,  and  his  knees  were 
probably  bony.  The  little  girl,  therefore,  presently  shyly 
asked  if  she  might  get  down. 

"  Get  down,  my  dear  !  "  he  replied.  "  Eh  ?  Yes,  if  you 
wish  it ;  but  I  can  tell  you  there  are  a  great  many  young 
ladies  who  would  not  at  all  object  to  find  themselves  where 
you  are." 


240 


GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUEY. 


One  day,  when  calling  at  the  house  later  on,  he  found  its. 
mistress  on  the  sofa,  deeply  engaged  in  a  book. 

"  What  have  you  got  there  that  interests  you  so  much  ?"" 
said  he. 

"  The  School  for  Husbands,"  she  answered. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,"  he  replied,  "  that  you  consider 
lite  long  enough  to  waste  it  on  such  unmitigated  trash !  " 

"  Oh !  but  I  assure  you,  Sir  Edward,  I  consider  it  very 


clever,  very  smart,  and  witty.  You  should  look  at  it  again, 
and  you  would  discover  that  you  have  quite  misappreciated 
it."  ' 

"  No,  thank  you ;  I  have  neither  read,  nor  do  I  intend  to 
read,  that  wretched  book ;  and  you  may  rely  upon  it,  if  you 
have  found  any  sense  within  the  covers,  those  pages  are  not 
by  the  soi-disant  author." 

*  The  "  author  "  in  question  was  Lady  Bulwer. 


LYTTON  BULWER 


241 


To  the  best  of  my  recollection,  Lady  Bulwer  had  not  a 
winning  expression,  though  some  may  have  considered  her 
handsome.  Her  hair,  as  well  as  that  of  the  little  girl, 
might  by  courtesy  have  been  called  "auburn,"  but  had  a 
strong  inclination  to  that  more  rubicund  hue  not  always 
admired  in  this  country.  This  child  was  their  only 
daughter,  and  died  in  1848. 

If  Sir  Edward  was  bitter  against  his  wife,  she  on  her  side 


BCLWEB  SHAVING. 


was  not  sparing  of  harsh  terms  when  speaking  of  liim;  and 
she  certainly  lost  some  sympathy  she  might  have  won  from 
the  world  by  taking  this  line,  although  her  sarcasms  were 
often  cleverly  expressed.  She  did  not  shine  as  an  author, 
nor  did  she  publish  more  than  two  books,  the  one  named 
above,  and  one  called  (though  apparently  it  did  not  prove) 
Very  Successful.  But  they  seemed  to  be  written  for  a 


VOL.    I. 


17 


242  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUKY. 

special  purpose,  and  so,  perhaps,  no  other  end  was  aimed  at 
by  their  author. 

Bulwer  was  in  his  earlier  life  much  noted  for  his  affecta- 
tion, and  much  smiled  at  for  the  frequent  introduction  of 
the  engraving  of  his  bust  as  a  frontispiece  to  his  books. 
He  delighted  in  being  thought  original,  followed  many 
Oriental  customs,  and  assumed  Eastern  costumes.  Strange 
to  say,  he  openly  avowed  his  preference  for  pipes  over 
cigars,  and  went  in  for  other  fashionable  vices — or  shall  we 
call  them  vicious  fashions".? 

Notwithstanding  this,  he  was  a  thinker  as  well  as  a 
writer,  and  however  indifferent  some  of  his  earlier  produc- 
tions may  have  been,  his  plays  as  well  as  later  novels  give 
evidence  of  reflection,  cultivation  and  originality.  He  has 
written  some  of  the  cleverest  remarks  to  be  found  in  print, 
and  shows  not  only  ingenuity  in  his  plots  and  shrewd 
observation  in. the  characters  he  draws,  but  great  literary 
and  scholarly  ability. 

T.  siingsby  Thomas  Slingsby  Duncombe,  better  known  as  "  Tom  Dun- 
Duncombe.  combe,"  and  "  Honest  Tom  Duncombe,"  was,  to  the  best 
of  my  recollection,  foppish  in  his  dress,  as  tall  as  d'Orsay 
and  affecting  something  of  his  style.  He  had,  however, 
none  of  the  Count's  genius,  and  being  M.P.  (for  Finsbury), 
was  more  taken  up  with  political  than  social  considerations ; 
he  not  only  strove  to  make  himself  popular  with  his  con- 
stituents, but  he  succeeded.  As  a  society  man,  he  obtained 
a  certain  notoriety,  and  certainly  could  not  have  been 
numbered  among  the  saints  of  his  day  :  he  and  Dillon 
Browne  were  among  the  numerous  intimate  admirers  of 
the  beautiful  and  bewitching  Madame  Vestris.  At  one  of 
the  dinners  referred  to  above,  in  a  sotto  voce  conversation 
between  the  two,  the  latter  was  heard  to  relate  how  he 
had  once  asked  that  lady  to  choose  him  some  shirts. 
Nothing  loth  to  exhibit  her  taste  and  her  indifference  to 
expense,  she  selected  a  dozen  at  three  guineas  each,  and 
ordered  them  to  be  sent  to  him — with  the  bill,  of  course. 


TOM  DUNCOMBE— DR.  SAMUEL  BIRCH.  243 

The  gentleman  was  obliged,  as  the  French  say,  to  execute 
himself  with  grace,  and  had  to  pay  the  thirty-six  guineas 
she  had  let  him  in  for. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  answered  Tom  Duncombe,  "  the  very  trick 
she  served  me  \  " 

What  else  could  they  expect  of  a  woman  who  cost  the 

Duke  of  B .£7,000  in  one  year,  for  violets  alone,  with 

which  her  house  was  perfumed  from  garret  to  cellar,  all 
through  the  winter. 

I  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  many  years'  acquaintance  with 
Dr.  Samuel  Birch,  of  the  British  Museum,  our  great  Egyptologist. 
Egyptologist  and  Oriental  scholar  generally.  His  celebrity 
is  too  widely  spread  to  need  any  observation  of  mine 
thereon ;  but  I  must  add  my  testimony  to  such  as  have 
already  written  of  him,  to  the  effect  that  he  was  a  very 
remarkable  man ;  remarkable,  indeed,  for  the  gentleness, 
modesty,  and  thorough  simplicity  of  his  character ;  for  his 
utter  unconsciousness  of  his  own  worth,  and  his  complete 
neglect  to  make  capital  of  it.  So  simple,  unassuming,  and 
unaffected  was  his  manner,  that,  until  made  aware  of  the 
fact,  no  one  could  ever  have  suspected  what  a  wealth  of 
knowledge  he  possessed.  The  record  of  Dr.  Birch's  pub- 
lished works — all  invaluable  adjuncts  to  Oriental  philology, 
history,  and  art — is  astoundingly  voluminous  for  one  man's 
life-work,  especially  as  he  is  always  accurate  and  trust- 
worthy, and  would  have  published  nothing,  the  sources  of 
which  he  had  not  ransacked  to  their  inmost  depths.  His 
mind  held  a  firm  grasp  of  all  he  had  studied,  and  his  eye 
had  been  trained  to  so  correct  an  appreciation  of  MSS.  and 
works  of  art,  that  it  was  with  the  utmost  confidence  he 
was  entrusted  with  missions  to  search  into  and  appraise  the 
value  of  antiques  and  rarities  of  whatever  kind,  under  con- 
templation as  purchases  for  the  Museum. 

I  was  greatly  amused  one  day  when — having  received  from 
a  friend  some  wonderfully  skilful  pseudo-twelfth-century 
reliquaries  which  that  gentleman  was  much  tempted  to  pur- 


244 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


chase,  and  which  he  had  sent  me  for  competent  inspection 
and  inquiry — I  carried  them  to  the  Museum,  and,  going  up 
to  Dr.  Birch's  private  room,  begged  his  attention  for  a 
moment  to  some  "  antiques  "  on  which  his  opinion  was 
sought.  Then  opening  the  parcel,  I  had  scarcely  uncovered 
one  corner  wrhen  he  gently  put  out  his  hand  to  stop  any 
further  proceeding,  saying  in  his  quiet,  deliberate  way,  and 
with  a  half- smile,  "Oh,  those  are  forgeries." 


DK.  SAMUEL  BIRCH,  THE  EGYPTOLOGIST. 

I  could  not  suppress  a  laugh,  as  I  replied,  "Oh,  Dr. 
Birch !  How  can  you  pronounce  such  a  rash  judgment, 
when  you  haven't  even  seen  the  things  ?  " 

"I  assure  you,"  he  answered,  in  the  same  calm  way,  "  I 
do  not  need  to  see  any  more  ;  I  know  them  quite  well." 

"  What !     You've  seen  them  before  ?  " 

"Yes;  that  is,  not  these;  but  others  from  the  same 
moulds.  They  are  very  well  done,  and  the  cerugo  on  them 


DR.  SAMUEL  BIRCH.  245 

is  most  successfully  produced.  They  were  forged  about 
twenty  years  ago,  and  were  represented  as  dug  up  in 
Suffolk." 

"Well,  I  certainly  had  these  sent  me  from  that  part  of 
the  world,  and,  as  you  say,  they  appear  to  be  very  well 
imitated ;  for,  although  I  did  not  intend  to  return  them 
without  your  inspection,  I  have  already  shown  them  to 
Mr.  -  — ,  who  is  supposed  to  be  an  authority,  and  he  pro- 
nounced them  genuine  and  great  curiosities." 

I  don't  know  that  I  need  add  that  Dr.  Birch's  half-glance 
was  of  more  service  than  the  thorough  examination  of  the 
other  "  authority,"  who  had  kept  the  objects  in  question 
for  a  couple  of  days. 

Dr.  Birch  was  a  man  of  most  winning  address,  genial  and 
hospitable  to  a  degree,  receiving  with  graceful  simplicity, 
and  never  so  pleased  as  when  surrounded  by  the  cultivated 
guests  he  had  the  art  of  assembling  at  his  table.  I  remem- 
ber one  dinner  he  gave,  at  which  we  were  twenty-four,  to 
celebrate  his  seventieth  and  his  youngest  child's  seventh 
birthday.  Unfortunately  for  his  friends,  his  innate  modesty 
and  his  too  retiring  disposition  led  him  to  put  them  forward 
in  conversation,  while  his  own  rich  stores  of  knowledge 
remained  comparatively  out  of  sight,  or  rather  out  of 
hearing. 

Going  one  bright  summer  afternoon  to  see  him  at 
the  British  Museum,  I  found  him  hard  at  work  in 
his  room,  and  on  my  noticing  his  laborious  task,  and 
inquiring  into  the  extent  of  it,  he  rose  and  took  me 
through  the  new  gallery  then  all  but  completed,  and 
rhere  the  cases  already  contained  countless  Egyptian 
and  other  antiquities,  not  one  of  which  was  as  yet 
catalogued;  "that,"  said  he,  "  is  work  cut  out  for  a  long 
to  come,"  and  he  walked  on,  pointing  out  to  me  in 
detail  one  object  after  another  with  a  readiness  and  acumen 
really  marvellous  even  to  one  as  much  impressed  with  the 
scope  of  his  information  as  myself. 


246  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

Observing  that  he  looked  worn  and  tired,  I  said,  "  Come 
now,  I  called  to-day  on  purpose  to  get  you  out  of  your  shut- 
up  room  into  the  fine  summer  atmosphere." 

"  Oh  !  indeed,  that  is  impossible,"  said  he,  "  I  have  work  I 
must  do  to-day,"  and  he  seemed  determined  to  stick  to  it ;  in 
the  end  I  persuaded  him  that  he  was  too  jaded  to  do  any 
good  work  that  day,  and  at  last  got  him  out.  I  then  pro- 
posed he  should  accompany  me  to  see  an  old  friend,  General 
Sir  James  Alexander,  who  lived  in  the  neighbourhood,  and 
a  very  interesting  visit  it  proved.  The  General  and  his 
daughter  had  just  received  from  a  friend  in  China  a  con- 
signment of  most  curious  goods,  among  all  of  which  we 
found  Dr.  Birch  quite  "  at  home."  One  was  a  magnificent 
hand-embroidered  satin  State  dress,  intended  for  a  lady,  the 
satin,  though  all  silk,  was  like  a  board  for  stiffness,  and  the 
embroidery  was  worked  in  flossy  silks  of  the  richest  dyes,  and 
in  most  original  patterns ;  the  lining  was  as  carefully  and  as 
tastefully  finished  as  the  exterior,  and  it  had  no  "seamy 
side."  There  were  fans  of  exquisite  workmanship  in  boxes 
of  costly  inlaid  tortoise-shell,  mother  o'  pearl,  and  delicate 
woods,  all  highly  polished  and  as  conscientiously  executed 
within  as  without.  There  were  books  full  of  the  most 
wonderful  patterns  printed  on  silk  paper,  and  several 
volumes  of  the  most  ludicrous  caricatures  and  humorous 
sketches  touched  off  with  an  unmistakably-artistic  com- 
mand of  the  pencil,  or  rather  the  pen ;  for  though  on  the 
most  delicate  silk  paper  they  were  in  Indian  ink  ;  each 
leaf  was  double,  and  the  double  edge  formed  the  front  of 
the  book,  the  title  of  it  being  printed  on  the  edges  of  the 
leaves  instead  of  on  the  back  *  of  the  cover. 

These  volumes,  it  appears  by  Dr.  Birch's  explanation  (for 
he  was  past  master  of  Chinese  literature),  are  arranged 
after  the  style  of  our  comic  illustrated  papers,  only  the 

*  This  is  the  fashion  still  followed  in  the  library  of  the  Escorial,  where  the  gilded 
leaves  are  turned  outwards,  the  name  of  each  volume  being  stamped  or  marked  on 
the  surface  they  form  when  closed  ;  the  effect  is  very  curious. 


DR.    SAMUEL   BIRCH.  247 

drawing  was  infinitely  cleverer,  a  single  touch  in  some  of 
them  resulting  in  an  inimitably  expressive  effect. 

Some  of  these  sketches  were  rather  risques,  and  the  letter- 
press was  not  always  within  the  bounds  prescribed  as  suited 
"  virginibus  puerisque"  but  the  majority,  and  these  were 
perhaps  the  cleverest,  were  perfectly  admissible,  and  won- 
derfully ludicrous ;  the  human  types,  however  distorted, 
were  all  of  Chinese  nationality. 

Dr.  Birch  was  a  very  fair  French  scholar,  and  talked  of 
the  Paris  of  long  ago  where  he  frequented  the  salon  of  Mde. 
Recamier  (nee  Bernard),  whose  beauty  he  described  as  then 
much  on  the  wane.  She  lived  on,  however,  many  years 
after  that,  dying  only  in  1849.  Madame  Recamier's 
marriage  was  a  very  abnormal  affair.  It  has  been  con- 
fidently stated  that  M.  Jacques  Rose  Recamier  was  her 
father,  and  went  through  the  ceremony  of  marriage  with 
her,  simply  that  he  might  thus  protect  her  youth  and  beauty 
from  the  demandes  en  mariage  of  men  to  whom  he  would 
have  objected  to  give  her. 

It  may  be  remembered  that  a  few  years  ago  an  extra- 
ordinary robbery  of  antique  engraved  precious  stones  took 
place  under  most  mysterious  circumstances  from  one  of  the 
cases  at  the  British  Museum.  Not  long  after  the  theft, 
some  of  the  stolen  articles  were  offered  for  sale  at  the 
museums  of  Continental  capitals,  where,  either  because 
they  were  supposed  not  to  be  genuine,  or  were  suspected  as 
stolen,  they  did  not  meet  with  ready  purchasers  ;  on 
their  being,  however,  taken  to  Amsterdam,  the  local  autho- 
rities stopped  the  gems  and  communicated  with  various 
museums,  among  them  with  ours ;  Dr.  Birch  was  at  once 
sent  over  to  identify  the  articles,  and  although  they  had 
been  tampered  with  so  as  to  materially  change  their  appear- 
ance, he  succeeded  not  only  in  recognizing  and  recovering  the 
whole  of  them,  but  in  bringing  the  thieves  to  justice.  It 
was  then  found  that  the  process  by  which  they  had  been 
abstracted,  must  have  been  a  very  elaborate  one,  a  key 


248  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

having  been  made  by  the  ingenious  rascals  expressly  to  open 
the  case  on  which  they  had  their  eye.  It  had  required 
many  visits,  and  011  crowded  public  days,  to  carry  out  this 
little  game ;  first  to  examine  the  lock,  then  minutely  to 
observe  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  able  to  make  a  rough  key 
that  would  go  into  the  scutcheon  at  all,  and  subsequently 
to  modify  its  detail  so  as  to  render  it  available.  It  was 
proved  further,  that  even  when  they  had  succeeded  in 
unlocking  the  case,  they  forebore  making  too  large  a 
haul  at  one  time,  helping  themselves  cautiously,  and 
when  favoured  by  the  confusion  of  a  large  concourse  of 
visitors. 

It  was  delightful  to  see  Dr.  Birch  playing  with  his  little 
son,  his  youngest  child  by  his  third  wife.  Unfortunately 
for  the  boy,  he  was  too  much  petted,  and  presuming 
upon  this  indulgence,  took  liberties  which  wTere  more 
amusing  than  approvable,  as  the  child  was  spirited  and 
intelligent ;  in  a  spirit  of  fun  he  used  always  to  address 
his  father  and  to  speak  of  him  as  "  Dr.  Birch."  Prob- 
ably an  occasional  birching  would  have  been  of  use  to 
him. 

Dr.  Birch  was  so  zealous  in  his  work,  in  which  he  took  a 
real  and  (for  his  own  health)  too  laborious  interest,  that  it 
never  occurred  to  him  to  spare  himself ;  he  never  shortened 
his  daily  tasks  by  a  single  minute,  and  his  holida}Ts  wrere  very 
limited ;  in  fact,  if  he  spent  one  or  more  single  days  away  from 
the  Museum  on  account  of  any  inevitable  private  or  family 
business,  he  had  to  make  it  up  when  his  short  holiday  of,  I 
think,  twenty-seven  days  came  round.  When  I  first  knew 
him,  and  for  a  long  time  after,  he  had  a  delightful  residence 
within  the  Museum  enclosure,  opposite  that  of  his  brother- 
in-law,  Dr.  Grey,  Professor  of  Natural  History ;  but  the 
rules  and  regulations  were  so  strict,  requiring  him,  among 
other  restrictions,  to  be  in  by  an  early  hour  at  night,  that 
he  preferred  paying  the  rent  of  a  house  of  his  own,  where 
he  might,  in  such  respects,  be  his  own  master. 


THE   POET   CLOSE.  249 


By  this  means  he  got,  together  with  his  liberty,  a  little 
more  exercise,  having  to  go  to  and  from  the  Museum  daily  ; 
but  he  had  become  prematurely  aged  from  a  long  life  of  hard 
study  and  close  work,  and  his  health  giving  way  under  a 
bronchial  attack,  he  died  suddenly  at  the  moment  when, 
according  to  the  doctors,*  the  disorder  had  taken  a  turn  for 
the  better.  Dr.  Birch  died  December  27,  1885. 

I  was  among  those  who  sadly,  followed  his  remains  to  the 
grave  :  the  service  was  simple,  and  its  solemnity  was 
relieved  by  choral  music.  The  attendance  of  friends  was 
large,  and  the  coffin  was  hidden  under  an  abundance  of 
white  flowers ;  the  burial  was  at  Highgate  Cemetery. 

It  seems  strange  that  all  these  great  capabilities  should 
have  brought  their  possessor  no  more  than  .£500  a  year, 
a  sum  not  only  absurdly  inadequate  as  a  remuneration,  but 
unfortunately  disproportionate  also  to  his  requirements,  for 
he  had  children  by  each  of  his  marriages,  and  the  British 
Museum  does  not  supplement  its  salaries  by  granting 
pensions  to  widows  and  orphans. 

Residents  in,  and  most  tourists  to,  "  the  Lake  district,"  The  Poet 
must  have  heard  of,  if  they  never  saw,  a  curious  individual 
whose  harmless  object  appears  to  have  been,  to  pass  for  a 
"  character."  In  pursuance  of  this  idea  he  called  himself, 
and  did  his  best  to  get  others  to  call  him,  "  The  Poet 
Close  "  ;  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  aspire  to  be  considered 
"  The  Laureate  of  the  Lakes,"  and  to  obtain  a  pension  on 
that  ground  ;  but  his  claim  for  this  title  was  founded  on  the 
quantity,  and  not  the  quality  of  his  verse,  and  had  there 
been  a  Professorship  of  Doggerel  vacant  he  might  fairly 
have  been  a  candidate  for  it. 

Ambitious  as  this  soi-disant  "  poet  "  was,  it  never  occurred 
to  him  to  soar  into  loftier,  or  to  stray  into  wider,  regions 
than  those  which  formed  his  immediate  surroundings,  and  if 

*  Doctors,— apparently  of  the  same  school  at  the  French  medico  who  comforted 
a  weeping  widow  after  a  similar  fashion  :  ''  Madame,  vous  avcz  toujours  la  con- 
solation de  savoir  que  votre  mari  eat  mort  yuiri." 


250  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

•ever  he  wrote  an  epic,  the  subject  must  have  been  taken 
from  the  exploits  of  local  heroes,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
Westmoreland  maidens.  "  Poet  Close  "  probably  fancied 
himself  a  second  Milton  and,  determining  not  to  be  a  "  mute, 
inglorious"  one,  let  no  occasion  pass,  by  which  he  might 
build  up  a  reputation,  and  he  soon  found  himself  the  owner 
of  one  .  .  .  such  as  it  was.  By  levying  black  mail,  on  a 
principle  of  his  own,  on  all  those  he  could  draw  within  his 
reach,  and  showing  them  up  in  versified  satire  if  they  did 
not  purchase  his  works,  he  contrived  to  make  a  very  com- 
fortable livelihood. 

It  was  at  the  landing-pier  at  Bowness  that  I  had  the 
honour  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  this  satellite  of  the 
cluster  of  stars  (of  doubtful  brilliancy)  called  "  the  Lake 
poets  "  ;  and  truly  the  twaddle  of  some  of  these  over-rated 
worthies  bears  a  strong  family  resemblance  to  some  of  the 
inspirations  of  the  "  Poet  Close." 

After  standing  beside  the  poor  old  fellow's  little  bookstall 
and  chaffing  him  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour — which  process  he 
not  only  bore  with  responsive  good  humour,  but  was  so  pleased 
that  he  asked  me  my  name  and  qualifications  with  a  view, 
he  assured  me,  of  immortalizing  me  in  his  verse  !  I  had 
so  far  won  his  favour  that  he  tried  to  press  on  me,  as  one 
of  the  fraternity  of  letters,  a  copy  of  his  book,  but  finally 
yielded  to  my  persistence,  and  I  honestly  bought  it ;  I  did 
even  more  in  expiation  of  my  perhaps  somewhat  free  jokes 
upon  him,  for  I  drew  it  from  my  pocket  as  soon  as  I  was 
in  the  railway  carriage  and  read  several  of  the  "poems." 
Being  limited  to  his  personal  surroundings,  they  could  not 
be  very  interesting  to  the  general  public,  but  was  "Peter 
Bell  "  one  whit  more  so  ? 

Insignificant  as  this  humble  "  Lake  Poet  "  may  have  been, 
he  was  the  cause  of  a  party  storm  in  that  great  Metropolis 
which  he  never  saw  and  perhaps  rarely  thought  of.  Lord 
Palmerston,  then  at  the  head  of  affairs,  was  urged  by  a 
local  magnate  (M.P.)  to  confer  a  pension  on  Close  "  in  con- 


THE   MISSES   BUSK,   OF   GREAT  HOUGHTON.       251 

Bideration  of  his  services  to  literature,"  and  taking  it  for 
granted  that  personal  investigation  of  the  merits  of  the  case 
was  not  needed,  acceded  to  the  suggestion  and  enriched  the 
soi-distant  "Laureate"  with  £100  a  year  from  the  Civil 
List.  The  grant  proved  less  gracious  than  it  appeared, 
for  soon  after,  the  truth  as  to  the  problematical  services 
''literature"  had  received,  leaked  out,  and  then  it  seemed 
only  fair  to  more  deserving  applicants  to  withdraw  the  pen- 
sion and  bestow  it  more  worthily.  Doing  and  undoing  are, 
alas  !  two  very  different  processes,  as  we  all  have  to  learn, 
and  to  withdraw  ,£100  a  year  from  a  man  to  whom  it  has 
been  conceded  as  a  reward  for  merits  which  he  fully  believes 
he  can  lay  claim  to,  is  not  an  easy  task.  The  difficulty  was 
therefore  met  by  a  compromise,  and  Close  had  to  content 
himself  with  £50  a  year  for  life,  but  thought  himself  a  very 
hardly  used  man.  It  seemed  to  me  (from  the  invidious  tone 
he  adopted  towards  the  "  other  Lake  Poets"  whom  he  criti- 
cized unmercifully  but  not  altogether  unfairly)  that  he 
entertained  a  suspicion  that  the  diminution  of  his  allowance 
was  the  outcome  of  their  jealousy. 

The  life  of  Lord  Houghton  has  been  so  exhaustively  £ordht 
treated  of,  that  it  seems  almost  impossible  to  add  anything 
new  on  the  subject;  nevertheless  as  the  ''grandmother" 
from  whom  the  Milnes  family  derived  their  wealth,  was  my 
father's  first  cousin,  I  may  correct  an  error  which  I  see  has 
crept  into  Mr.  Wemyss  Eeid's  otherwise  tolerably  accurate 
information  on  the  family  genealogy. 

There  were  two  Misses  Busk,  co-heiresses  of  Jacob  Hans 
Busk,  of  Great  Houghton,  Yorks ;  one  of  these — Kachel — 
married  Mr.  Richard  Slater  Milnes ;  and  her  son,  Eichard 
Pemberton  Milnes,  was  the  father  of  Eichard  Monckton 
Milnes,  afterwards  Lord  Houghton. 

The  other  Miss  Busk — Mary — also  became  "  Mrs.  Milnes," 
but  by  her  marriage  with  Mr.  James  Milnes,  a  distant  cousin 
of  Eichard  Slater  Milnes,  and  M.P.  for  Bletchingley.  Mr. 
Wemyss  Eeid  states  in  his  memoir,  that  "  Effingham  "  [he 


252  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

probably  means  Egreraont]  House,  Piccadilly,  was  the  Lon- 
don house  of  Mr.  Richard  Pemberton  Milnes,"  which  is  an 
entire  mistake  :  not  only  did  Lord  Houghton  himself  once 
tell  me  that  he  had  never  lived  there,  but  my  father  used  to 
point  out  to  me  Egremont  House — which  had  then  become 
Cambridge  House,  and  the  residence  of  Lord  Palmerston— - 
as  the  mansion  occupied  in  his  youth  by  his  cousin.  Mrs.- 
James  Milnes,  who  used  to  give  receptions  there,  which 
were  honoured  with  the  presence  of  the  Prince  Eegent,  after- 
wards George  IV.  He  used  to  describe  how,  on  these  occa- 
sions, the  doorsteps  were  covered  with  scarlet  cloth,  and  how 
Mr.  James  Milnes  came  down  himself  and  received  His  Royal 
Highness  on  the  perron,  carrying  two  wax  candles  in  silver 
candlesticks,  with  which  he  walked  upstairs,  backwards, 
conducting  the  Prince.  Egremont  (not  Emnghani)  House, 
is  now  the  Naval  and  Military  Club.  Mrs.  James  Milnes, 
the  sister  of  Mrs.  Eichard  Slater  Milnes,  possessed  splendid 
diamonds,  which  were  so  valuable  that  she  kept  a  man  at  a 
salary  of  ,£500  a  year  to  look  after  them ;  but  if  any  were  lost 
he  bound  himself  to  replace  them.  I  don't  know  if  this  con- 
tingency ever  occurred ;  but,  for  his  own  protection,  he  seems 
to  have  followed  his  lady  like  her  shadow  whenever  she  was 
wearing  them,  not  only  to  theatres  and  all  public  places  and 
to  large  private  gatherings,  but  even  wrhen  his  patroness 
dined  out,  he  watched  her  in  and  out  of  her  carriage,  and 
remained  within  the  house  as  long  as  she  was  there. 

Mrs.  James  Milnes's  death  took  place  before  that^of  her 
sister  Mrs.  E.  S.  Milnes  ;  she  left  no  heirs,  and  the  fortune 
of  the  latter  and  her  family  was  still  further  increased 
thereby ;  for  all  the  entailed  property  went  to  them ;  the 
personal  property  and  the  famous  diamonds  passed  to  the 
Milnes  Gaskells  and  the  Daniel  Gaskells  of  Lupset  and  of 
Thornes  House  respectively — both  in  Yorkshire.  Mr.  James 
Milnes'  sister  was  Mrs.  Milnes  Gaskell. 

Great  Houghton  was  a  property  of  considerable  extent 
and  importance  in  the  county  of  York,  and  Houghton 


LORD   HOUGHTON.  253 


Hall  was  a  dwelling  of  historical  interest :  it  had  belonged 
to  Lord  Strafford,  and  there  is  a  family  tradition  that  the 
black  cloth  with  which  the  great  vestibule  was  draped  at  the 
time  of  Lord  Strafford's  execution,  was  never  removed  until 
it  dropped  away  by  age.  There  were  other  relics  of  the 
period, — among  them  a  silver  salver  used  by  Lord  Strafford 
personally,  up  to  the  time  of  his  death,  and  which,  through 
Rachel  Busk,  came  to  her  grandson  Lord  Houghton,  and  is 
still  preserved  at  Fryston,  the  celebrated  residence  of  three 
generations  of  the  Milnes  family. 

I  have  a  very  distinct  recollection  of  my  father's  cousin, 
Lord  Houghton' s  grandmother,  and  when  she  was  wearing 
widow's  mourning  she  and  two  daughters  came  to  see  my 
father  at  our  place  in  Kent.     She  was  then  very  old  and 
must  have  shrunk  with  age,  as  both  she  and  her  sister,  Mrs. 
James  Milnes,  when  young,  were  tall  and  well-grown  women, 
joining  in  country  sports  and  being  famous  for  hunting  and 
fishing  :  there  was  very  little  appearance  of  these  physical  an- 
tecedents at  the  time  when  I  saw  Mrs.  Richard  Slater  Milnes. 
Bull  House,  Leeds,  was  a  freehold  also  belonging  to  my 
great  uncle  Jacob  Hans  Busk — the  father  of  these  ladies  ; 
there  was  a  curious  tradition  about  that  house  to  the  effect 
that  its  owner,  having  insured  it  for  a  large  sum  during  fifty 
years,  one  day  reckoning  the  amount  it  had  cost  him  at 
compound  interest,  was   so  startled   at  the   result  of  the 
calculation,  that  he  determined  to  discontinue  the  expense, 
as  there  had  never  been  any  alarm  of  fire  of  any  kind,  during 
the  whole  of  that  time ;  strange  to  say,  that  very  year — 
and,  as  usual,  owing  to  the  carelessness  of  one  of  the  men- 
servants — the  house  took  fire,  and  was  burnt  to  the  ground. 
There  is  not  much  to  be  said  about  Lord  Houghton  that 
has   not   already  been   employed    in   composing  the    two 
volumes  of  his  life  (Wemyss  Reid,  1891).     A  little  anecdote 
he  once  related  to  me  is  curious :  when  presented  to  Louis 
Philippe  in  Paris  as  Mr.  Milnes,  the  King  wishing  to  get  the 
name   correctly,  said,   "  How  do   you  spell  ?  "  and  when 


254  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

Milnes   had  given  him  the  letters   M.  i.  1.  n.   e.  s.,  His 
Majesty  replied  : 

"Ah!  I  remember,  when  I  was  in  England,  eating  the 
best  strawberries  I  ever  tasted,  at  your  place  in  Yorkshire,, 
near  the  coal  pits." 

I  once  made  a  little  tour  with  the  archaeological  section 
of  the  British  Association,  Lord  Houghton — then  Monckton 
Milnes — being  one  of  us.  He  spoke  on  the  occasion,  but  I 
regret  to  say,  this  being  many  years  ago,  I  quite  forget  both 
the  subject  and  the  discourse,  though  I  remember  the  satis- 
faction his  address  afforded,  and  the  just  remarks  made  by 
those  present  on  the  universality  of  the  speaker's  knowledge. 

Lord  Houghton  was  a  good  reader  and  was  fond  of  reading 
aloud  his  own  poems  to  friends  who  dined  with  him.  This 
was  always  a  pleasure  to  the  listeners,  for  his  verse  gained 
greatly  by  the  intelligent  emphasis  with  which  he  declaimed 
it.  Lord  Houghton's  compositions  are,  as  a  rule,  original 
and  also  graceful,  and  there  is  much  freshness  and  poetry  in 
his  ideas,  but  his  style  has  sometimes  the  appearance  of  being 
laboured  and  leaves  the  impression  that  what  he  wrote  would 
have  pleased  better  if  less  care  had  been  bestowed  on  it ; 
occasionally  the  sense  seems  to  get  muddled  by  superfluous 
re-writing;  an  author,  retaining  in  his  head  his  original 
idea,  does  not  perceive  this,  and  to  him  it  seems  still  there, 
under  what  he  conceives  to  be  a  better  form  of  expression  ; 
as  however,  he  has  arrived  at  this,  only  after  perhaps  turning 
it  upside  down,  and  inside  out,  adding  here,  abstracting 
there,  making  changes  in  favour  of  harmony,  which  imper- 
ceptibly weaken  the  sense,  the  reader  who  has  not  the 
original  notion  to  guide  him,  has  to  make  an  effort  to  dis- 
entangle it  from  the  rhetorical  refinements  by  which  it  has 
become  concealed.  It  is  the  same  with  pictures  .  .  .  .  ut 
et  pictura,  poesis ;  a  sketch  from  nature,  should  never  be 
touched. 

Towards  the  close  of  his  life,  Lord  Houghton's  articulation 
became  much  impeded,  a  circumstance  greatly  deplored  by 


LORD   HOUGHTON.  255 


his  friends.  His  sister,  Lady  Gal  way,  was  considered  by 
many,  the  better  reader  of  the  two,  and  her  ability  as  an 
artist  was  very  considerable.  The  sketches  she  made 
during  her  last  tour  with  Lord  Houghton  in  the  Holy 
Land,  would  adorn  the  portfolio  of  any  professional  land- 
scape painter.  Her  death  was  very  sad,  being  due  to  an 
accident. 

Lord  Houghton  was  an  early  member  of  Grillon's  Club, 
so  called  because  its  locale  was  Grillon's  Hotel ;  founded  by 
members  of  Parliament  in  1813,  this  club  was  purely  literary 
and  social :  the  intention  of  its  founders  being  to  establish  a 
neutral  ground  on  which  men  of  all  opinions  could  meet, 
politics  were  strictly 'excluded.  The  number  of  members 
was  limited  to  two  hundred,  and  as  many  as  could  attend 
met  at  Grillon's  Hotel  at  a  breakfast,  every  Wednesday 
during  the  parliamentary  season.  The  fiftieth  aniversary  of 
the  club  was  kept  on  May  6,  1863,  and  at  that  time  there 
were  only  seven  of  the  original  members  surviving. 

It  was  among  the  original  regulations  that  every  member, 
on  his  marriage,  should  have  his  portrait  painted  by  Slater  and 
engraved  by  Lewis,  and  that  a  copy  of  the  engraving  should 
be  presented  to  each  of  the  other  members.  On  Slater's 
death,  George  Kichmond,  that  consummate  master  of  the 
art  of  portrait-painting,  was  appointed  to  succeed  him,  with 
Holl  as  the  engraver.  In  1860,  a  collection  of  seventy-nine 
of  these  portraits  was  sold  at  Puttick's. 

Financially,  Lord  Houghton  may  be  said  to  have  been 
among  those  whom  Fortune  loves  to  favour :  the  days  of 
railway  compensations  are  over;  but,  besides  the  large  fortune 
brought  into  the  family  by  his  grandmother,  Eachel  Busk, 
a  portion  of  her  Yorkshire  land,  around  and  within  the 
borough  of  Leeds,  was  bought  up  at  fabulous  prices,  for  the 
construction  of  railways,  and  also  for  building  purposes  con- 
sequent on  the  lines  and  their  branches  ;  the  produce  of 
these  sales  enabled  Mr.  Pemberton  Milnes  to  restore  the 
family  fortunes,  and  to  recoup  himself  for  the  sacrifice  he 


256  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

and  his  son  had  made  in  paying  over  ,£100,000  to  clear  off 
certain  liabilities  of  their  relative,  Rodes  Milnes. 

The   following  lines  by  Lord  Tennyson  were  published 
shortly  after  Lord  Honghton's  death  : 

"  Oh  !  Great  Appreciator  !  sorrow-wrought 
"Tis  in  world-life  thy  epitaph  we  find, 
A  noble- feeling  for  it,  wondrous  kind, 
Eeciprocal  delight  in  talent  sought. 

Honour  him,  for  he  knew  what  soaring  thought 

Told  as  it  flashed  on  many-sided  mind  ; 

Rich  friendships  round  his  lettered  life  have  twined — 
To  whom  pure  love  of  greatness,  greatness  brought 

Gifted  with  sympathetic  insight,  he 
With  deep-set  eyes,  and  twinkling  with  shrewd  jest, 

Discerned  the  aiight  or  nought  he  met,  could  see 

Where  genius,  merit  or  mere  pride  might  be  : 
He  knew  and  loved  men  !     Giving  of  his  best, 
Host,  patron,  critic,  poet !     Let  him  rest !  " 


SOCIAL   CELEBRITIES. 

WOMEN. 


VOL.  i.  18 


"  It  is  less  difficult  for  a  woman  to  obtain  celebrity  by  her  genius  than  to  be 
pardoned  for  it." — BBISSOT. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

SOCIAL   CELEBRITIES. 
WOMEN. 

"  Every  woman  who  writes,  has  one  eye  on  her  manuscript  and  the  other  on 
some  favourite  of  the  opposite  sex." — HEINRICH  HEINE. 
"  The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  .  .  .  Woman." — Not  POPE. 

IN  my  young  days  a  book- writing  woman  was  still  regarded 
as  a  social  phenomenon.  If  a  woman  were  more  highly 
cultivated  than  usual,  she  was  called  a  "  blue,"  *  and  con- 
sidered a  bore ;  men,  as  a  rule,  secretly  sneered  at  her, 
and  women,  also  as  a  rule,  held  her  up  to  ridicule,  while 
both,  as  a  rule,  avoided  her,  especially  if 

".  .  .  She  could  speak  Greek 
As  naturally  as  pigs  squeak." 

The  view  they  took  was  a  narrow  one,  and  except  where 
learning  rendered  a  woman  arrogant  or  pedantic,  it  was  also 
silly  and  unjust.  We  have  changed  all  that  now,  and,  up  to 
a  certain  point,  a  woman  is  preferred  for  her  cultivation. 
Should  she  presume  on  it,  and  thereby  provoke  the  contempt 
or  aversion  of  either  sex,  she  cannot  be  said  to  get  more  than 
she  deserves. 

The  women  who  were  regarded  as  "  blue  stockings  "  forty  Mrs- 
or  fifty  years  ago,  however,  would  probably  attract  very  little 
attention  now,  unless  it  were  those  who  distinguished  them- 
selves in  a  remarkable  way,  such  as  Miss  Herschel  or  Mrs. 

*  Catalani,  the  singer,  whose  English  was  very  funny,  used  to  call  a  learned  lady 
"  a  stocking  blue." 


260  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

Somerville.  Of  the  last-named  lady,  who  certainly  inscribed 
her  mark  on  the  age,  I  remember  entertaining  a  feeling  of 
dread,  and  making  a  point  of  escaping  whenever  she  called 
at  our  house ;  for  there,  as  everywhere,  she  was  held  in 
the  highest  esteem,  and  as  The  Mechanism  of  the  Heavens  * 
occupied  an  essential  place  on  our  schoolroom  bookshelves, 
I  always  apprehended  the  possibility  of  being  put  through  it 
by,  or  in  presence  of,  the  authoress.  This  fear  was  entirely 
the  effect  of  imagination,  as  no  one  could  be  less  pretentious 
in  manner,  or  more  amiable  and  gentle  in  conversation,  than 
Mary  Somerville,  though  her  scientific  attainments  were  of 
so  high  an  order,  and  the  subjects  she  grasped  and  dealt  with 
in  so  masterly  a  style,  were  rarely  approached  by  her  sex. 
Even  scribbling  women  of  far  less  exalted  pretensions,  and 
who,  at  the  present  day,  would  be  regarded  as  something 
below  the  average  social  standard,  came  half  a  century  ago, 
within  the  category  of  literary  lionesses — admired  by  some 
and  invidiously  shunned  by  others. 

Mrs.  Eiwood.  There  were  two  daughters  of  Edward  Jeremiah  Curteis,  of 
Windmill  Hill,  Sussex,  M.P.  for  the  county,  who  used  to 
visit  at  our  house.  The  more  popular,  and  by  far  more  elegant 
of  the  two,  was  married  to  Sir  Howard  Elphinstone,  Bart. ; 
the  other,  who  was  decidedly  plain  and  without  personal 
distinction,  was  the  wife  of  Colonel  Eiwood,  of  Clayton 
Priory,  who  was  known  about  there  as  "cherry-stick  El- 
wood,"  on  account  of  his  polished  bald  head  and  rather 
curious  features.  This  lady  had  "  written  a  book,"  and  the 
book  went  boldly  to  the  point ;  it  was  neither  more  nor  less 
than  The  Lives  of  Remarkable  Women.  Another  literary 
production  of  her  pen  was  an  account  of  her  journey  home 
from  India,  by  the  Overland  route,  and  especially  of  Egypt, 
where  her  party  lingered  some  time,  and  where  she — the 
first  Englishwoman  who  had  attempted  the  feat — had 
ascended  the  Great  Pyramid ;  though  I  don't  think  she  got 

*  This  book  was  written  at  the  instigation  of  Lord  Brougham  as  a  contribution 
to  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge  Series, 


MRS.  ELWOOD— MARIA  EDGE  WORTH.  261 

to  the  top.  It  must  be  remembered  there  were  no  ready- 
Cooked  tours  to  "  foreign  parts  "  in  those  days,  and  except 
in  the  way  of  business,  ladies  rarely  visited  such  an  out-of- 
the-way  place  as  Cairo.  To  the  best  of  my  recollection 
there  was  no  assumption  in  this  lady's  behaviour ;  but,  to 
a  certain  extent,  she  was  regarded  as  a  social  curiosity. 
We  may  well  say  things  have  changed  in  half  a  century ; 
at  the  present  day,  the  social  curiosity  is  the  woman  who 
has  not  written  a  book  ! 

If  Maria  Edgeworth,  one  of  the  pioneers  of  female  author-  Maria 

i  •  i    L  i    t  T,        u        I,*'  Ed8eworth- 

ship,  was  somewhat  beiore  my  time,  I  have  been  brought 

into  what  I  may  call  a  traditional  acquaintance  with  her, 
through  a  niece  of  this  favourite  writer,  who  has  long  been 
an  intimate  friend  of  mine. 

My  impression  of  Maria  Edgeworth,  as  gathered  from 
what  I  have  heard  from  her  niece,  is  that  she  must  have 
been  a  very  fine  character,  remarkable  for  her  extreme 
unselfishness,  genuine  goodness  of  heart,  and  the  purest 
and  most  practical  "  altruism."  Her  love  of  children  was 
very  striking,  because  if  she  had  no  domestic  ties  of  this 
nature  herself,  it  was  entirely  due  to  a  feeling  that  she  could 
be  more  extensively  useful  to  her  kind  if  she  remained 
unmarried.  But  this  was  not  her  only  reason ;  she  knew 
how  important  her  services  were  to  her  father ;  and,  though 
seriously  tempted  by  a  proposal  of  marriage  from  the 
Swedish  Ambassador,  to  whom  she  was  much  attached,  she 
resisted  his  repeated  appeals,  in  order  to  devote  herself  to 
her  filial  duties ;  her  father,  however,  does  not  appear  to 
have,  for  a  moment,  considered  his  daughter's  happiness,  or 
to  have  shown  any  recognition  of  the  sacrifice  she  was 
making.  He  had  been  brought  up  by  his  father  strictly  upon 
the  principles  of  Kousseau's  education  of  Emile ;  but  how? 
ever  excellent  in  theory,  these  principles  appear  to  have 
failed  in  practice  ;  at  all  events,  the  result  in  this  case  was 
far  from  encouraging. 

I  have  seen  many  letters  of  Maria  Edgeworth's  addressed 


262  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

to  my  friend,  her  niece  :  the  autograph  is  distinctive,  the 
writing  being  small  and  even  cramped,  but  very  legible. 

Besides  this  interesting  correspondence,  she  has  often 
shown  me  curious  relics  of  the  Edgeworth  family,  valuable 
old  miniatures  and  original  medallion  portraits  in  early 
Wedgewood.  the  traditions  of  which  are  all  stereotyped  in 
her  memory,  and  well  worth  listening  to.  In  a  group  of 
the  Edgeworth  family,  owned  by  this  lady,  she  pointed 
out  to  me  the  portrait  of  the  Abbe  Edgeworth  de  St.  Firmin, 
confessor  to  Louis  XVI.,  and  cousin  of  Eichard  Lovell 
Edgeworth,  Maria  Edgeworth's  father.  I  intend,  however, 
to  speak  of  him  in  detail  in  a  future  volume. 

Whether  from  having  been  born  and  brought  up  in  the 
midst  of  these  legendary  associations,  or  from  inheriting  the 
wit  and  intelligence  of  the  Edgeworth  family,  my  friend  and 
her  daughters  are  charming  company ;  their  recollections  of 
these  and  many  other  celebrities  of  their  time,  are  accurate 
and  informing.  A  repartee  of  one  of  the  daughters  aiforded 
me  considerable  amusement  one  day,  when  I  was  paying 
a  visit  there.  I  must  state  that  these  ladies  were  at 
that  time  residing  in  a  handsome  house  in  Bathurst 
Street,  the  ground  floor  with  a  separate  entrance,  being 
occupied  by  a  druggist  in  a  large  business.  I  was  taking 
my  leave,  when  a  dashing  carriage  drove  up,  and  a  lady, 
the  wife  of  an  eminent  publisher  (but  who  at  that  time 
was  also  a  bookseller),  came  up,  rustling  with  silks  and 
followed  by  her  daughter.  The  young  people  having  met, 
the  daughter  proceeded  to  entertain  her  young  visitee  with 
an  account  of  the  difficulty  they  had  had  in  finding  the 
house.  "  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "  we  drove  past  this  door 
two  or  three  times,  thinking  we  must  have  mistaken  the 
number,  as  we  could  not  imagine  you  would  be  living  over  a 
shop." 

"Well,  you  see,"  answered  the  young  girl,  with 
commendable  dignity  and  ready  wit,  "  we  can't  afford  a 
grander  house,  for  we  don't  live  by  a  shop." 


LADY   STRANGFORD.  263 

Before  we  dismiss  this  publisher  I  must  cite  a  bon  mot,  of 
which  he  was  the  subject.  Dining  at  his  house  one  day,  I 
heard  a  lady  remark  to  the  gentleman  sitting  next  to  her, 
"  What  a  splendid  room  this  is,  and  what  costly  plate,  what 
exquisite  flowers,  and  what  a  banquet !  " 

"  Yes,  madam,"  returned  the  addressee,  stiffly,  "  do  you 
know  what  it  is  all  made  of  ?  "  The  lady  answered  with  a 
look  of  surprise,  half-scared,  for  the  tone  was  that  of  a  man 
W7ho  felt  what  he  said.  "  I  will  tell  you,"  he  continued, 
— "  author's  brains." 

Lady  Strangford  and  her  sister,  Miss  Beaufort,  daughters  Lady 
of  Admiral  Sir  Francis  Beaufort,  were  related  to  Maria 
Edgeworth  through  their  mother,  who  was  another  niece  of 
that  writer.  Lady  Strangford's  indefatigable  interest  in  a 
countless  number  of  benevolent  schemes  needs  not  to  be 
recalled  here ;  her  life  is  well  known  to  have  been  one  of 
unceasing  utility  and  liberality. 

The  Beaufort  family,  as  she  once  told  me,  carried  on  life 
in  the  most  original  way,  and  the  hours  they  kept  were  so 
much  at  variance  with  those  observed  by  the  rest  of  the 
civilized  world,  that  it  must  have  been  difficult  for  the 
younger  members  to  maintain  intercourse  with  society. 

A  lady  who  may  be  cited  as  a  celebrity  among  women  Mrs. 
of  her  time,  was  Elizabeth,  only  daughter  of  the  Eight  Hon. 
Arthur  St.  Leger,  created  Baron  Kilmadon  and  Viscount 
Doneraile,  in  1703.* 

While  yet  a  young  girl,  she  was  the  heroine  of  a  curious 
adventure,  the  tradition  of  which  has  found  its  way  to 
succeeding  generations,  but  in  a  fanciful  form.  It  was,  I 
remember,  a  nursery  tradition  with  us,  that  a  young  lady, 
moved  by  that  curiosity  attributed  to  the  sex  generally, 
had  once  concealed  herself  within  a  large,  old-fashioned 
clock,  in  order  to  overhear  the  conference  of  a  meeting 
of  Freemasons;  that,  by  inadvertently  touching  the  pen- 

*  This  lady  was  married  to  Richard  Aldworth,  of  Newmarket,  co.  Cork. 


264  GOSSIP  OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

dulum,  she  had  stopped  the  clock  ;  that  one  of  the 
fraternity,  suddenly  becoming  aware  of  the  circumstance, 
had  risen  and  opened  the  clock-door,  to  ascertain  what 
was  wrong  with  the  machinery,  when  lo!  the  awful  fact 
was  revealed — that  "  a  chiel  had  been  amang  them  "  ! 
However  dissonant  with  the  feelings  of  gallantry  which  ani- 
mated these  members  of  the  secret  society,  the  inquisitive 
damsel  was  by  the  stern  inquisitors  condemned  ...  to 
die  !  Her  fate  seemed  sealed,  for  the  laws  of  Freemasons 
are  inexorable  ;  but  the  deus  ex  machind  assuming  the  form 
of  Cupid,  came  to  the  rescue.  The  maiden  was  noble  and 
beautiful ;  a  susceptible  Mason  fell  in  love  with  her  on  the 
spot  and  popped  the  question  ;  but  it  was,  of  course,  in  the 
awkward  form  of  what  is  called  "holding  a  knife  to  one's 
throat  " — "Marry  me  and  I  will  become  answerable  for  you 
on  your  taking  the  required  oaths ;  refuse  me,  and,  by  our 
laws,  you  die."  There  was  not  much  room  for  choice  ;  a 
young  and  beautiful  damsel  could  hardly  be  expected  to 
throw  herself  into  the  arms  of  death,  when  there  was  a 
handsome  and  spirited  young  fellow  holding  his,  open  to 
receive  her.  She  fell  into  them,  and  having  taken  the 
required  oath,  was  admitted  into  the  fraternity  to  become 
the  only  female  Freemason  that  ever  existed. 

Talking  over  this,  one  day,  with  Colonel  Alcock  Stawell, 
I  obtained  from  him  the  true  story,  which  is  quite  sufficiently 
romantic,  and  his  version  may  be  relied  on  as  authentic, 
since  the  lady  in  question  was  his  grandmother. 

She  was,  as  I  have  said,  the  daughter  of  Lord  Doneraile, 
who  seems  to  have  enjoyed  some  privileges  among  Masons, 
and  who  was  a  "Master,"  and  "lodges"  were  held  at  his 
house.  On  the  occasion  of  one  of  their  meetings  at  Done- 
raile Castle,  they  were  assembled  in  a  room  or  hall,  com- 
municating with  a  smaller  room,  the  door  into  which 
happened  to  be  open ;  his  young  daughter  being  occupied, 
quite  by  chance,  in  the  inner  room,  unwittingly  overheard 
all  that  was  going  on.  Too  much  alarmed  to  know  how  to 


Ho.N1"1    MKS.   Ai.mvoKTii, 

DAUOHTF.K  OF  THE  FIRST  LORD  DOXERAII.K. 

The  only  Female  Freemason. 

(From  a   Minintun-  »f  /In-  tnn,.\ 


LORD  DONERAILE'S  DAUGHTER  265 

act,  she  at  first  thought  the  meeting  would  shortly  disperse, 
and  that  her  accidental  presence  would  never  be  known ;  and 
then  again  it  occurred  to  her  that  she  had  far  better  escape, 
if  it  were  possible  to  get  away  unperceived.  She  accord- 
ingly stole  out,  and,  keeping  close  along  the  tapestry  of 
the  vast  hall,  in  the  gloaming,  successfully  passed  the 
gentlemen  seated  at  the  table  in  the  middle  of  it,  who 
were  too  much  absorbed  to  notice  her.  She  had  reached 
the  door  and  opened  it,  when,  to  her  dismay,  she  found 
herself  suddenly  confronted  with  an  unexpected  sentinel, 
called  the  "  tyler,"  whose  office  it  is  to  guard  the 
approaches  whenever  a  lodge  is  held.  This  functionary, 
as  in  duty  bound,  brought  his  prisoner  back  into  the  middle 
of  the  hall,  and  presented  the  terrified  girl  to  the  assembly. 
An  unanimous  regret  was  frankly  expressed  for  the  fate  the 
young  maiden  had  incurred,  but  they  agreed  there  was  only 
one  issue. 

"  Oh  !  no,  gentlemen,"  said  Lord  Doneraile,  "I  am  not 
going  to  lose  my  only  daughter ;  you  must  find  some  other 
way  out  of  it." 

"  There  can  only  be  one  *  other  way,'  "  replied  the  spokes- 
man, "  but  she  is  not  a  man ;  if  she  were,  she  might  be 
sworn  in,  a  Freemason." 

"  Then,"  said  Lord  Doneraile,  "  she  must  be  sworn  in, 
without  being  a  man." 

The  conclusion  was  accepted ;  the  young  lady  was  sworn 
in,  then  and  there,  and  proved  as  loyal  to  her  oath  as  the 
best  man  among  them. 

Colonel  Alcock  Stawell  was  one  day  relating  this  story  of 
his  grandmother  to  a  Master  Mason,  who  was  naturally 
greatly  interested  in  it,  when  the  latter  replied,  "Well, 
now  you  have  told  me  something  about  your  grandmother, 
I  will  tell  you  something  about  mine,  whose  adventures 
caused  her  to  be  named  '  The  Lady  of  the  Four  Birds.'  " 

She  was  a  Miss  Crowe,  and  was  married,  when  young,  to 
a  Mr.  Crane.  This  gentleman  having  left  her  a  wealthy 


266  GOSSIP   OF   T-HE    CENTURY. 

widow,  she  was  courted  by  a  Mr.  Hawke,  who  behaved 
exceedingly  ill  to  her.  She  sought  the  legal  assistance  of  a 
Mr.  Baven,  who  married  her,  having  successfully  pursued 
and  obtained  for  his  fair  client  large  damages  from  the 
Hawke.  These  may  be  called  "  Tales  of  a  Grandmo^e;-." 

It  seems  fair  when  speaking  of  remarkable  women  to 
record  the  names  of  several  distinguished  ladies  whom  I 
remember  as  actively  busying  themselves  somewhere  about 
the  year  1828  et  seq.,  in  the  amelioration  of  the  condition  of 
the  poorer  classes  by  the  organization  of  societies  with  fixed 
rules  ;  their  practical  working  being  carried  on  by  house-to- 
house  visiting  in  towns,  as  has  always  been  more  or  less 
usual  in  rural  districts. 

No  doubt,  Mrs.  Fry's  courageous  prison-visiting  had 
suggested  this  movement,  which  was  taken  up  with  ardour 
by  the  Evangelical  school  of  religion  ;  and  women  of  the 
world  who  felt  that  life  had  its  duties  as  well  as  its  pleasures, 
readily  formed,  in  concert  with  the  clergy,  associations, 
having  for  their  object  the  moral  and  material  improvement 
of  the  poorer  classes. 

My  mother  was  an  active  but  unostentatious  worker  in 
the  cause,  which  had  its  raison  d'etre  before  the  British 
workman  was  injudiciously  elevated  to  be  the  tyrant  of  his 
employers,  before  our  servants  were  trained  to  consider 
themselves  our  masters,  and  before  children  who  have  been 
picked  up  in  the  gutter  were  turned  into  "  young  ladies  " 
and  "  young  gentlemen,"  to  the  detriment  of  society  at 
large,  and  more  wofully  still,  to  their  own. 

The  voluntary  teaching  and  class-holding  of  benevolent 
ladies  would  now  be  sneered  at  by  a  class  which  has  been 
worshipped  and  petted  till  it  has  altogether  forgotten  itself, 
and  house-to-house  or  district  visiting  would  probably  be 
resented  with  a  "  not-at-home  "  on  the  part  of  the  visitee. 
The  Comtesse  A  few  short  years  ago,  however,  this  was  not  so,  and  the 
lower  classes  gratefully  received  instruction,  assistance,  and 
sympathy  from  the  upper.  I  very  well  remember  the 


THE   EVANGELICAL   MOVEMENT.  267 

Comtesse    de  Montalembert   (mother  of  the   distinguished 
Comte)  as  an  active  member  of  the  association  to  which  my 
mother  belonged;  she  was  a  stately  person,  but  could  unbend 
gracefully,  though  she  retained  some  of  her  native  Scotch 
characteristics.     Lady  Jane  St.  Maur,  daughter  of  the  Duke  Lady  Jane 
of  Somerset,  also  gave  herself  heartily  to  the  work,  and  not- 
withstanding her  position  and  its  duties,  found  time  to  do 
her  part  with  benevolent  readiness  ;  she  was  always  simple 
in  her  dress  and  manner,  and  was  a  great  favourite  with 
her  proteges.     Lady  Catherine  Graham  (who  was  kept  much  Lady 
at  home  with  an  invalid  daughter  whom  I  never  saw  off  Graham, 
the  sofa,  ^and  whose  son  Sir  James  Graham   was   at  that 
time  First  Lord  of  the   Admiralty)  was  another  who  un- 
grudgingly bestowed  time,  energy,  and  money  on  the  cause  ; 
as  also  did  Lady  Nugent,  wife  of  Lord  Nugent,  Governor  Lady  Nugent, 
of  the  Ionian  Islands. 

Miss  Neave,  daughter  of  Sir  Eichard  Neave,  was  said  to  Miss  Neave. 
have  given  up  a  very  advantageous  marriage  that  she  might 
devote  her  fortune  as  well  as  her  time  to  a  cause  she 
regarded  as  of  vast  public  importance,  and  she  established 
at  Manor  House,  Chelsea,  a  reformatory  school  for  girls,  in 
order  to  rescue  them  from  the  dangers  of  prison  life.  I 
might  mention  many  more  contemporary  philanthropists, 
devoted  to  a  work,  the  limits  of  which  were  certainly  far 
more  judicious  and  logical  than  those  of  a  system  which, 
at  the  present  day,  exceeding  all  moderation,  does  not  pro- 
duce results  which  can  be  considered  in  any  way  satisfac- 
tory. That  a  large  public  organization  was  demanded  by 
the  increasing  needs  of  the  times,  every  one  must  concede, 
but  the  working  of  the  present  wrild  and  extravagant  schemes 
which  have  by  degrees  come  to  exceed  all  proportion, 
sufficiently  testifies  to  the  lamentable  mistakes  of  the  new 
departure. 

I  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  Mrs.  Fry  and  her  gentle,  Mrs.  Fry. 
and  yet  commanding  bearing ;  I  can  see  her  now,  as  she 
appeared  in  her  own  house,  where  amongst  a  number  of 


268  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

similarly  attired  women,  she  seemed  to  be  treated  with  an 
affectionate  reverence.  Her  hair  was  quite  white,  braided  in 
bands,  and  she  wore  the  conventional  Quakeress  cap,  her 
dress  being  grey  with  a  white  muslin  kerchief  crossed  on 
her  bosom. 

A  gathering  to  which  I  was  once  taken  in  early  childhood 
at  Mrs.  Fry's  house  by  my  mother,  had  reference  to  her 
prison- work  (as  I  guessed  from  the  little  I  understood  of  the 


MKS.  FKY. 


proceedings),  but  having  been  deposited  on  a  chair  in  an  out- 
of-the-way  corner  of  the  room,  I  began  to  find  it  tedious 
work,  and,  by  way  of  varying  the  monotony,  made  some 
amusement  by  drawing  my  arm  in  and  out  of  its  sleeve.  It 
was  while  the  latter  was  hanging  empty  that  the  pow-wow 
came  to  an  end,  and  Mrs.  Fry  happening  to  pass  that  way, 
and  to  observe  it,  said  to  me  in  soft  and  sympathic  tones, 
but  quite  gravely,  "  Has^thee  but  one  arm,  my  poor  child  ?  ' 
Mrs.  Fry  was  a  portly  woman,  and  had  a  solemn  and 


MBS.  FEY.  269 


imposing  appearance  in  her  prim  cap  and  sober  apparel.  I 
was  awed,  too,  by  the  deference  with  which  I  had  seen  her 
treated ;  so,  instead  of  venturing  a  reply,  I  shyly  slid  my 
hand  in  again,  and  produced  it  at  the  cuff;  but  she  didn't 
smile,  she  simply  remarked,  "  Ah  !  it  is  well  matters  are  no 
worse,"  and  walked  on,  much  to  my  relief;  but,  from  what  I 
have  seen  of  "  Friends  "  and  the  rigidity  of  their  principles, 
she  may  have  considered  this  a  deplorable  instance  of  youth- 
ful depravity,  and  have  made  up  her  mind  that  the  next 
time  she  saw  me  it  would  be  in  the  House  of  Correction. 

When  the  King  of  Prussia  was  in  England  in  1842 
(February  5th),*  he  went  to  visit  Newgate  Prison.  Mrs. 
Fry  was  there  either  advisedly  or  by  accident,  and  had  the 
pluck  to  invite  His  Majesty  to  lunch.  As  she  was  occupy- 
ing a  surburban  residence — I  am  pretty  sure  it  was  at 
Stamford  Hill — the  King,  who  accepted  the  unceremonious 
invitation  with  pleasure,  had  to  drive  through  the  city,  a 
distance  of  five  or  six  miles.  The  coachman,  however, 
represented  that  the  Koyal  horses  could  not  accomplish  the 
distance  (!)  so  it  was  suggested  that  a  pair  of  post-horses 
should  be  added  to  the  equipage,  an  arrangement  by  no 
means  relished  by  Her  Majesty's  coachman. 

The  tutoyage  of  "  Friends  "  is  not  very  grammatical,  the 
word  "  thee "  being  substituted  for  "  thou,"  without  any 
accountable  reason ;  there  seems  no  justification  for  "  thee 
does,"  "  thee  hopes,"  "thee  walks,"  "thee  are,"  &c. 

I  was  once  staying  with  some  Quakers,  and  being  young, 
amused  myself  and  them  with  talking  Quaker-language ; 
on  one  occasion,  employing  "thou"  in  its  correct  sense, 
thus: — "Thou  must  go  out,"  &c.,  I  was  corrected  by  a 


*  It  is  interesting  at  the  present  moment  to  record  that  on  the  occasion  of  this 
Prussian  Royal  visit,  His  Majesty  made  magnificent  presents  to  all  the  officers  of  the 
Royal  Household ;  Snuff-boxes  worth  five  hundred  guineas  each,  to  the  Lord 
Chamberlain,  the  Master  of  the  Horse  and  the  Lord  Steward  ;  boxes  and  watches 
to  others,  and  he  left  in  the  hands  of  Charles  Murray,  for  distribution  among  the 
three  classes  of  servants  at  the  Palace,  .£1,500.  (See  Charles  Greville's  Memoirs.') 


270  GOSSIP   OF    THE    CENTURY. 

"Friend"  present,  with,  "Thee  mus'n't  say  '  thou,'  thee 
must  say  '  thee,'  thee  knows." 

A  Quaker,  however  hospitable,  I  found,  never  presses  a 
guest  at  table  to  take  a  further  helping,  if  he  refuse  at  the 
first  asking ;  it  is  supposed  that  a  repetition  of  the  offer 
would  impute  insincerity  to  the  person  addressed. 

Quakers  either  take,  or  affect  to  take,  everything  that  is 
said  or  done,  at  the  foot  of  the  letter ;  I  once  heard  a 
Quaker  child  ask  his  mother  whether  he  might  go  to  witness 
a  "Tremendous  Sacrifice  "  which  he  had  seen  announced  in 
a  shop  window,  asking  at  the  same  time  what  they  could  be 
going  to  sacrifice,  as  he  had  thought  that  form  of  worship 
had  long  since  been  done  away. 

Quaker  ladies  make  a  point  of  dressing  very  plainly  and 
in  sober  greys,  drabs,  and  browns ;  but  if  they  are  well  off, 
they  use  none  but  the  richest  materials,  whether  in  dress  or 
furniture.  Every  article  of  food  too  is  always  of  the  best, 
and  their  tables  are  most  luxuriously  served.  They  keep 
men-servants  and  equipages,  and  I  knew  a  wealthy  Quaker 
widower  living  quite  alone,  who  commanded  the  services  of 
a  valet  as  well  as  a  butler  and  footman ;  coachman  and 
groom  of  course ;  and  he  gave  his  cook  five-and-thirty 
guineas  a  year,  in  days  when  eighteen  to  twenty  were  con- 
sidered very  fair  wages.  He  also  travelled  with  every  kind 
of  comfort,  including  his  own  bedding.  His  house  at 
Bruce  Grove  was  furnished  in  the  costliest  style,  though 
everything  was  sedulously  plain,  and  no  tint  but  greys  and 
drabs  was  admissible ;  he  had  also  two  country  seats,  one  at 
Eydal  Mount,  adjoining  Wordsworth's  place,  the  other  called 
Glen  Kothay,  in  Scotland.  Another  I  knew,  who  lived  in 
a  large  villa  at  Stamford  Hill,  and  who,  besides  his  coach- 
man, butler,  and  footman,  kept  three  gardeners. 

A  Quakers'  meeting  strikes  a  stranger  as  being  a  very 
strange  kind  of  religious  function.  It  is  the  part  of  "  Minis- 
ters" or  "  Elders,"  of  either  sex — to  say  the  prayers,  and  also 
to  address  the  meeting;  but  only  if  "moved  by  the  spirit," 


QUAKEES'   MEETINGS.  271 

and  I  have  attended  meetings  whore,  after  sitting  a  certain 
time,  the  whole  congregation  has  risen  and  left  the  meeting- 
house, "the  spirit"  having  happened  to  "  move  "  no  one. 
The  praying  is  intoned  with  a  monotonous  nasal  twang  in 
a  kind  of  chant,  very  irritating  and  very  fatiguing  to  listen 
to  ;  the  congregation  are  understood  to  follow  it,  whether 
the  spirit  move  them  or  not,  which  does  not  seem  logical. 
No  one  kneels. 

I  was  once  at  a  Quaker  funeral,  and  remember  being 
specially  struck  with  the  discourse,  sermon,  or  oration  pro- 
nounced over  the  deceased  by  one  of  the  congregation.  It 
was  so  quaint,  whether  from  the  affectedly  simple  language 
employed,  or  the  extraordinary  nasal  tone  adopted,  that  not- 
withstanding the  solemnity  of  the  occasion,  I  really  thought  y 
at  first,  it  must  be  a  burlesque. 

Quakers  do  not  (or  did  not,  then)  employ  the  ordinary 
nomenclature  for  describing  the  days  of  the  week ;  they  call 
them  First-day,  Second-day,  &c.,  and  "First-day  "  mean& 
not  Sunday,  (which  to  them  counts  as  the  "  Seventh-day)," 
but  Monday. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  Quakeress  bonnet,  which  to 
an  outsider  recalls  nothing  so  much  as  a  coal-scoop,  and 
appears  to  the  uninitiated  to  have  from  time  immemorial 
maintained  that  shape,  has  its  variations  the  same  as  the 
bonnets  of  mondaines ;  a  fashionable  young  Quakeress  would 
no  more  consent  to  wear  a  last  year's  coal-scoop  after  it  had 
ceased  to  be  fashionable,  than  would  a  Duchess  consent  to 
appear  at  Court  in  the  dress  she  had  worn  at  a  previous 
Drawing-room,  unless  modified. 

It  is  true  that,  by  degrees,  the  number  of  individuals 
sporting  these  distinctive  badges  has  considerably  diminished, 
and  in  London  it  is  now  extremely  rare  to  meet  these  prim 
sectarians,  styled  by  Sydney  Smith,  "  the  drab-coloured  men 
of  Pennsylvania,  habited  as  were  their  fathers  and  mothers." 
The  names  which  Quakers  were  wront  to  bestow  on  their 
children  were  strictly  biblical,  but  less  remarkably  so  than 


272  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

those  of  the  Puritans  of  a  former  generation,  with  whom  it 
was  not  unusual  to  employ  as  a  name  a  whole  sentence  out 
of  the  sacred  volume ;  for  example  : — I  have  heard  of  one 
youth  whose  patronymic  of  "  Gibbs  "  was  preceded  by  the 
following  name,  or  names — "  It  is  only  by  much  tribulation 
that  the  righteous  can  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
"  Gibbs  "  at  the  end  of  all  this,  produced  rather  a  bathos. 
As  it  would  have  been  somewhat  burdensome — especially 
considering  the  deliberation  with  which  Quakers  are  wont  to 
speak — to  repeat  this  string  of  names  each  time  the  bearer 
of  it  was  addressed,  it  was  abbreviated  for  convenience'  sake, 
and  the  lad  went  by  the  name  of  "  Tribby  Gibbs." 

I  remember  a  farmer  we  once  had  (who  was  not  a  Quaker) 
.christening  his  boy  "Harry,"  and  on  asking  him  why  he 
had  not  bestowed  on  him  his  own  name  of  "  John,"  he  gave 
a  very  practical  reason,  to  wit,  that  you  couldn't  hail 
"  John,"  whereas,  however  far  off  the  boy  might  be, 
you  could  always  make  him  hear  by  shouting  "  Har-ree." 
That  man  would  not  have  been  puzzled  to  reply  to  the 
question — "  What's  in  a  name  ?  " 

Quakers'  wooing  is  said  to  be  very  droll,  and  it  is  not 
altogether  unusual  for  the  lady  to  offer  herself,  and  in 
.a  way  which  should  make  the  swain  deem  himself  highly 
honoured  by  the  condescension.  I  was  once  told  by  a 
Quakeress  the  story  of  her  own  courtship.  In  this  case 
the  youth  performed  his  own  part,  according  to  accepted 
.custom ;  but  was  so  timid  that,  although  (as  usual)  his  pretty 
.speech  was  prepared  and  learnt  by  heart,  it,  most  pro- 
vokingly,  vanished  just  at  the  witching  moment. 

In  this  dilemma  poor  Reuben  had  nothing  for  it  but  to 
.edge  his  chair  up  to  the  one  occupied  by  Rachel,  who,  how- 
ever, resented  his  reticence  by  withdrawing  hers.  This 
manege  went  on  till  further  retrogression  was  stopped  by  the 
wall.  .  At  each  move  he  had  ventured  to  whisper  the  fair 
creature's  name,  accompanied  by  a  nudge  with  his  elbow  ; 
yet  matters  were  no  further  advanced  ;  at  last,  under  an 


QUAKER   PECULIARITIES.  273 

impulse  of  desperation,  having  repeated  the  sweet  name 
and  the  affectionate  nudge  once  more,  he  added  in  a  pro- 
voked tone — "  Thee  knows  very  well  what  I  mean,  Rachel." 

There  is  a  story  of  a  pretty  young  Quakeress,  a  widow, 
who  kept  an  hotel ;  one  day  a  gallant  (and  apparently  also 
gallant)  Colonel  was  among  her  guests.  In  the  morning 
when  he  was  going  away,  he  came  to  take  leave,  slid  behind 
her,  clasped  her  waist,  and  declared  he  "  must  have  a  kiss." 

"  Well,"  said  the  conscientious  Quakeress,  "  if  thee  must, 
I'll  not  make  thee  tell  a  lie ;  so  thee  may  do  it  this  once, 
but  remember  thee  mustn't  make  a  practice  of  it." 

Quakers  used  at  one  time  to  object,  on  principle,  to  pay 
taxes  ;  perhaps  the  objection  still  holds  good,  but  on  reflec- 
tion they  probably  find  it  politic  to  conform  to  the  laws  and 
usages  of  the  country;  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  century, 
however,  there  were  many  who  practically  carried  out  their 
system,  and  would,  on  no  consideration,  proclaim  their 
inconsistency  by  handing  over  voluntarily  the  amount 
claimed  by  the  collector:  these  stiff-necked  non-conformists, 
however,  were  shrewd  enough  to  leave  accessible  a  few 
silver  spoons  corresponding  in  value  to  the  sum  demanded, 
allowing  these  to  be  seized,  and  satisfying  themselves  with 
the  consideration  that  this  negative  submission  was  not  a 
spontaneous  recognition  of  the  legal  enactment,  they  chose 
to  ignore. 

Though  they  tolerate  crowned  heads,  they  refuse  to 
recognize  them  as  rulers,  and  the  following  anecdote  is  a 
not  inapt  illustration  of  their  feeling  on  this  subject  :-— 

When  George  III.  was  (in  1788)  with  his  family  at 
Worcester,  where  he  became  extremely  popular,  an  attempt 
was  made  to  "  move  the  spirit  of  the  Quakers  "  there,  to 
address  His  Majesty;  but  there  was  no  getting  them  out  of 
their  old  track  of  opinion  and  habit ;  in  fact,  they  rather 
disliked  the  results  of  the  Eoyal  visit,  as  interfering  with  the 
regular  course  of  events.  About  a  dozen  of  the  younger 
and  more  inquisitive  among  them  got  leave  from  their  elders 

VOL.    I.  19 


274  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 


to  be  present  within  the  Court-yard  when  His  Majesty's 
coach  left  the  Koyal  residence,  hut  none  of  them  would 
uncover  their  heads.  The  King,  seeing  they  were  Quakers, 
made  no  remark,  hut  took  off  his  own  hat  and  bowed  to 
them,  on  which  they  returned  His  Majesty's  politeness  by 
waving  their  hands,  and  the  eldest,  making  himself  spokes- 
man said — 

"  Farewell,  Friend  George  !  "  * 

The   King  and   Queen  laughed   merrily,  as   they  drove 
away,  at  this  quaint  expression  of  good  will. 

wniiam  and  William  and  Mary  Howitt,  familiarly  known  among  their 
MaryHowitt.  frjen(js  as  «  William  and  Mary,"  I  fell  in  with,  at  the  time 
when  they  were  residing  at  Highgate,  and  saw  them  not  very 
long  after  the  loss  of  their  son,  who  was  drowned  in  New 
Zealand.  I  was  told  by  the  friend  who  introduced  me,  thatr 
being  believers  in  spiritual  communications,  they  were  both 
firmly  persuaded  they  had  each,  separately,  received,  on  the 
day  and  hour  of  the  young  man's  decease,  a  manifestation 
which  satisfied  them  not  only  of  his  death,  but  of  the  kind 
of  fatality  which  occasioned  it.  Both  were  extremely 
pleasant  and  amiable  in  their  reception  of  those  who  were 
not  of  their  sect,  and  both  were  venerable  in  their  appear- 
ance; for  a  mild,  gentle,  quiet,  reposeful  manner  characterized 
them,  alike.  In  .fact,  in  their  presence  (as  in  the  recollection 
of  them),  it  seemed  impossible  to  separate  their  individuality, 
and  I  remember  looking  on  them  as  they  sat  there  together, 
and  wondering,  when  death  should  call  away  one  of  the  pair, 
how  the  survivor  would  be  able  to  carry  on  a  divided  exis- 
tence. It  was  William  Howitt  who  preceded  his  wife  to  the 
grave  ;  and  with  that  strong  religious  fortitude  which  enables 
the  Christian  philosopher  to  accept  the  inevitable  as  a  dis- 
pensation from  heaven,  Mary  Howitt  lived  on  in  the  faithful 
discharge  of  duties  which  gave  satisfaction  to  her  life,  even 

*  In  the  various  secret  and  scandalous  memoirs  of  the  Courts  of  the  Georges,  a 
story  crops  up  now  and  again  of  an  early  and  secret  intrigue — not  to  say  marriage 
— of  George  III.  with  a  member  of  the  Society  of  "  Friends." 


L.   E.   L.  275 

after  she  had  lost  him  who  seemed  so  inseparable  a  part  of 
herself.  She  lived  on,  honoured  and  beloved  for  the  simple, 
unselfish  virtues  of  her  character,  and  holding  to  the  last  the 
literary  reputation  she  had  earned  by  her  publications,  all 
written  in  a  spirit  of  tenderness  for  her  fellow-beings,  and  of 
touching  confidence  in  Divine  protection  for  herself.  Mary 
Hewitt's  widowhood  was  passed  in  Italy,  and  it  was  but  a 
short  time  after  her  husband's  death  that  she  was  received 
into  the  Catholic  Church  to  become  a  fervent  devotee.  Her 
death  took  place  in  1887  at  Rome. 

I  used  to  meet  L.  E.  L.  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Wm.  L.  E.  L. 
Pitt  Byrne,  and  remember  seeing  her  there,  shortly  be- 
fore she  married  Sir  George  Maclean — Governor  of  the 
Cape — and  went  out  with  him  to  his  Residency.  Miss 
Landon  was  of  -a  good  old  county  family,  I  believe,  but 
not  blessed  with  much  wealth.  Her  appearance  was  very 
much  what  her  literary  productions  would  have  led  one 
to  expect.  No  one,  I  think  —  certainly,  no  one  of  the 
present  day  —  who  happens  to  have  read  any  of  them, 
would  consider  them  other  than  amateurish  and  epheme- 
ral, and  altogether  of  the  period  that  tolerated  and 
even  patronized  those  "Drawing-room  Annuals"  which 
have  now  happily  evaporated.  The  fact  that  she  gave 
existence  to  "The  Drawing-room  Scrap-book"  sufficiently 
characterizes  not  only  herself,  but  the  epoch  of  her 
authorship,  and  was  consistent  with  her  pretty  face,  and 
amiable,  lady-like  manner.  Her  death  was,  and,  no 
doubt,  will  always  remain,  a  mystery;  there  seems  no 
sufficient  reason  to  suppose  it  was  due  to  suicide,  as  her 
husband  professed  himself  perfectly  satisfied  as  to  the 
blamelessness  of  her  life,  and  altogether  repelled  the  in- 
sinuations of  which  she  had  been  the  victim.  Convention- 
ality, no  doubt,  has  its  uses  as  well  as  its  susceptibilities, 
but  it  seems  hard  that  a  friendship  between  persons  of 
opposite  sexes  can  rarely  exist  without  giving  rise  to 
malicious  inferences  :  this  is  regrettable,  as  it  lays  an 


276  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

unwelcome  tax  on  a  description  of  intercourse  which  has  a 
special  charm  for  both  parties.  A  French  bel  esprit — La 
Braye-re — with  tender  subtlety  has  described  it  thus  : — "  Ce 
n'est  pas  I' amour  ;  ce  rfest  pas,  non  plus,  Vamitie  ;  c'est  un 
sentiment  apart." 

Madame  de  Stael  took  a  fancy  to  this  discriminating 
description  and  appropriated  it,  since  when  it  has  passed  for 
hers. 

L.  E.  L.,  who  was  born  in  1802,  died  at  the  early  age  of 
thirty- six,  and  only  a  few  months  after  her  marriage.  Her 
novel  Ethel  Churchill  made  a  little  stir  at  the  time  of  its 
publication,  when  weak  novels  did  not  swarm  as  at  present ; 
but  it  is  probably  unrecognized  even  by  name,  by  the  exist- 
ing generation,  nor  apparently  is  her  poem  the  Improvi- 
satore  (published  in  1824)  any  better  known. 

The  life  of  Letitia  Elizabeth  Landon,  like  that  of  the 
Brontes,  was  an  almost  unbroken  series  of  struggles  against 
the  decrees  of  fate.  Her  earliest  years  were  passed  in 
adversity,  for,  although  orphaned  when  a  mere  child,  her 
family,  who  were  in  good  circumstances,  refused  in  any  way 
to  assist  her  ;  this  was  the  more  pathetic  as  the  ample 
competence  she  should  have  inherited  was  either  recklessly 
muddled  away  or  fraudulently  misappropriated,  and  she  was 
left  not  only  without  means  of  support,  but  without  edu- 
cation. 

The  position  which,  as  "  L.  E.  L.,"  she  ultimately 
attained  in  the  literary  world  is  the  more  surprising,  that  all 
the  knowledge  she  acquired  was  the  result  of  self-instruc- 
tion ;  she  was  remarkably  intelligent  and  very  persevering, 
and  was  possessed  of  extremely  refined  tastes,  which 
materially  aided  her  in  planning  such  a  course  of  reading  as 
should  be  of  the  greatest  use  to  her,  though  her  pursuit  of 
learning  was  necessarily  limited  by  her  restricted  means ;  and 
the  difficulty  she  experienced  in  obtaining  the  books  she 
needed  crippled  to  a  great  extent  her,  nevertheless,  per- 
sistent efforts. 


MRS.   TROLLOPE— LADY  FRANKLIN.  277 


There  was  something  very  engaging  in  L.  E.  L.'s  appear- 
ance, she  was  by  nature  rather  of  a  tarne  and  yielding,  than 
of  a  spirited,  character,  though  she  had  certainly  not  shown 
herself  wanting  in  energy.  She  was  admired  in  society, 
especially  by  men,  but  among  those  wrho  courted  her,  she 
did  not  make  a  wise  choice  of  a  husband. 

A  writer  who  produced  a  certain  stir  during  the  "  thirties"  Frances 
and  "forties"  was  Frances  Trollope;  born  in  the  last 
century  (1791),  she  married  young,  and  spent  some  years  in 
the  United  States,  where  she  gained  experiences  of  life, 
especially  American  life,  and,  having  a  lively  imagination, 
turned  those  experiences  into  novels,  which  had  a  consider- 
able, if  somewhat  ephemeral,  vogue.  Mrs.  Trollope  could 
not  be  considered  refined  either  in  appearance  or  manners, 
and  her  mode  of  expressing  herself  was  rather  forcible  than 
elegant ;  still  she  became  a  small  literary  lion,  and  roared 
amusingly  (if  not  gracefully)  in  society.  A  censorious  spirit, 
such  as  the  French  would  call  verve  moqueuse,  pervaded  her 
conversation  as  well  as  her  pages,  and  made  her  many 
enemies  :  she  was  a  keen  observer,  especially  of  the  weaker 
side  of  human  nature,  and  exposed  the  foibles  of  her  fellow- 
beings  in  no  very  measured  form.  Her  books  on  society  in 
France,  Germany,  and  Belgium,  appear  to  have  fallen  into 
quasi-oblivion.  She  disappeared  from  London,  and  went  to 
live  at  Florence,  some  years  before  her  death,  which  took 
place  in  1863. 

Lady  Franklin,  wrhom  I  knew  only  somewhat  late  in  her  £ady 

J.  »  Franklin. 

life,  enjoyed  a  special  celebrity,  chiefly  from  her  devoted, 
persevering,  and  dauntless  efforts,  to  trace  and  discover  the 
whereabouts  of  her  heroic  husband.  Although,  however, 
she  devoted  so  much  time,  thought,  and  money,  to  this 
engrossing  object,  she  did  not  neglect  her  old  friendships, 
but  continued  to  maintain  a  social  intercourse  writh  London 
acquaintances.  She  had  a  tastefully  decorated  house  in 
Kensington  Gore,  to  which  she  removed  from  Seamore 
Place,  Park  Lane,  and  held  pleasant  conversaziones,  where 


278  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

one  often  met  remarkable  people.  An  agreeable  and  intelli- 
gent niece,  Miss  Cracroft,  lived  with  her,  and  was  her 
constant  and  valued  companion. 

I  remember,  on  one  occasion,  conversing  there  with  some 
American  literati,  among  whom  were  the  wife  and  sister  of 
Willis ;  the  Bishop  of  Honolulu  was  also  among  the  com- 
pany, with  two  daughters,  the  younger  of  whom — a  young 
and  remarkably  pretty  girl,  born  in  that  outlandish  place- 
had  received  the  slightly  unusual  name  of  Howeena- 
Moweena  I 

Honourable         An   exceptionally   charming   old   lady  was   the   Honble. 

Cave"1  way  Maria  Otway  Cave,  eldest  daughter  of  Baroness  Braye. 
The  vicissitudes  of  this  ancient  title,  which  dates  from  1529, 
have  been  curious  and  romantic.  The  Barony  had  fallen 
into  abeyance,  on  the  death  (leaving  daughters,  but  without 
male  issue),  of  John  Braye,  Second  Baron,  whose  estates, 
however,  these  ladies  inherited. 

In  1839  the  abeyance  was  terminated  by  the  issue  of 
Letters  Patent  in  favour  of  Sarah  Otway  Cave,  only 
daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Otway.  By  her  marriage  with 
Henry  Otway  she  had  four  sons,  all  of  whom  died  without 
issue,  and  the  title  once  more  fell  into  abeyance  among  the 
five  daughters  who  survived.  Three  of  these  ladies  pre- 
deceased their  eldest  sister  Maria,  on  whose  death,  in  May, 
1879,  the  abeyance  again  came  to  an  end,  and  the  fifth 
sister,  Henrietta,  wife  of  the  Rev.  Edgell  Wyatt-Edgell, 
became  Baroness  Braye.  Her  enjoyment  of  the  title  was, 
however,  of  brief  duration,  for  she  died  in  November  of  the 
same  year,  1879.  She  was  succeeded  in  the  family  honours 
by  her  eldest  son,  Edmund  Yerney,  who  never  so  much  as 
heard  of  his  mother's  death,  or  of  his  own  accession,  for  he 
was  killed  in  South  Africa  in  the  same  year,  and  his  youngest 
brother,  Alfred  Thomas  Townsend,  Fifth  Baron  Braye  (a 
Catholic),  now  holds  the  title ;  he  has  a  son  and  three 
daughters. 

It   is   a   curious   and  melancholy   fact   that   the    young 


HON.   MARIA   OTWAY   CAVE.  279 

Captain  Wyatt-Edgell,  who  fell  at   Ulundi,  was  the  only 
British  officer  killed  in  that  engagement. 

Miss  Maria  Otway  Cave's  residence  was  habitually  Stan- 
ford Hall,  Leicestershire  ;  but  she  generally  visited  London 
during  part  of  the  season,  much  to  the  delight  of  her 
London  friends ;  though  of  a  quiet,  almost  retiring,  dispo- 
sition, she  was  particularly  cheerful,  bright,  and  chatty,  in 
society,  and,  from  having  been  much  among  interesting 
people,  possessed  a  variety  of  authentic  contemporary 
anecdote.  Unhappily  we  are  too  often  content  to  be  enter- 
tained by  such  raconteurs,  and  do  not  take  the  trouble  to 
store  up  the  matter  that  has  entertained  us,  under  a  vague  but 
erroneous  impression,  that  we  can  return  to  it  at  any  moment ; 
this  is  a  deplorable  error  which  most  of  us  have  to  lament 
in  our  later  lives.  Who  among  us  does  not  have  to  cry  out, 
•"  Alas  !  for  my  lost  opportunities  "  ?  The  last  time  I  had  a 
chat  with  Miss  Otway  Cave,  among  many  curious  little 
social  incidents  that  came  into  her  talk,  I  am  sorry  to  say  I 
remember  only  one,  but  that  is  a  curious  one,  viz.,  the 
origin  of  the  nomenclature  of  the  Savill-Onleys  of  Stisted  Charles 
Hall,  near  Braintree,  Essex.  The  first  of  the  family  who 
bore  this  name  was  originally  Charles  Harvey,  Recorder  of 
Norwich,  M.P.  for  Norwich,  of  Stisted  Hall ;  considerable 
property  having  been  left  him  by  a  distant  relative  named 
Savill,  a  condition  attached  to  the  bequest  was,  that  he 
should  assume  the  name  of  the  testator,  not  in  addition  to, 
but  in  place  of,  his  own,  i.e.,  Savill,  without  prefix  or  afiix. 

Strangely  enough  this  condition  was  expressed  with  some 
ambiguity,  inasmuch  as  the  testator,  who  had  written  the 
will  himself,  in  expressing  his  desire  that  "  Charles  Harvey's 
name,  and  that  of  his  descendants,  should  thenceforward 
be  Savill,  only "  had  (no  doubt  inadvertently)  written 
""only,"  with  a  captial  "  0."  Mr.  Harvey's  lawyer,  feeling 
that  a  will  in  favour  of  a  distant  kinsman  was  liable  to  be 
contested,  advised  his  client  to  avoid  any  objection  that 
might  be  raised  on  the  score  of  nomenclature,  by  adopting 


280  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

the  double  name  of  "  Savill-Only,"  which  in  time  became 
Savill-Onley."  It  must,  however,  be  supposed  that,  if 
there  existed  other  claimants,  they  were  not  litigiously 
disposed ;  for  the  solicitor's  advice,  as  usual,  may  perfectly 
well  have  been  given  in  order  to  promote,  instead  of  avoid- 
ing, a  lawsuit. 

It  is  obvious  that,  whether  the  legal  suggestion  had  been 
adopted  or  not,  there  was  very  good  matter  here  for  a 
ruinous  dispute,  which  would  have  put  money  into  the 
pockets  of  the  lawyers,  and,  as  the  costs  would  have  "  come 
out  of  the  estate,"  they  might  have  urged  it  on  successfully , 
with  the  help  of  that  fallacious,  but  often  plausible,  plea. 
Princess  de  Among  the  remarkable  women  of  her  time  was  none 
perhaps  more  remarkable  than  that  artful  female  politician 
and  Russian  spy,  Princess  de  Lieven,  who,  to  gain  her  ends, 
scrupled  not  to  become,  in  their  turn,  all  things  to  all  men ; 
she  tried  her  blandishments  on  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
and,  later  on,  on  Canning,  when  in  office,  but  with  scant 
success  ;  when  it  came  to  be  Earl  Grey,  she  fooled  him  to 
the  top  of  his  bent :  Talleyrand  saw  it,  though  others 
either  did  not  or  would  not,  but  the  intimacy  between  this 
lady  and  the  Premier  was  only  in  its  infancy  in  the  French 
statesman's  time. 

The  Princess  was  one  of  those  women  who  are  all  the 
more  dangerous  for  not  being  beautiful ;  her  ascendency 
was  obtained  by  the  piquancy  of  her  wit,  the  brilliancy  of 
her  intelligence,  and  the  fascination  of  her  manner,  these 
rather  gaining  than  losing  by  advancing  years.  She  had  been 
very  imperfectly  educated,  and  her  reading  was  not  exten- 
sive, but  she  was  accustomed  to  Courts,  and  a  shrewd 
observer  of  men  and  their  motives,  of  circumstances  and  the 
use  to  be  made  of  them.  She  was  a  born  diplomatist,  and 
had  a  considerable  share  of  initiative,  of  originality,  and 
determination. 

There  is  no  doubt  she  was  greatly  favoured  by  events, 
and  when,  in  1828,  she  was  appointed  Lady  in  Waiting  to 


PRINCESS  DE   LIEVEN.  281 


the  Empress  of  Russia,  she  had  forty-four  years'  experience 
of  life  on  her  head.  Dorothee  de  Benkendorf  was  born  in 
1784,  and  in  1800,  when  only  sixteen,  married  the  Prince 
de  Lieven. ;  she  came  to  England  at  the  age  of  eight  and 
twenty,  viz.,  in  the  memorable  year  1812,  when  the 
Emperor  Alexander  allied  himself  with  England  to  oppose 
that  insane  attack  of  Napoleon,  who  must  have  been  literally 
drunk  with.success,  and  blinded  by  inordinate  vanity,  to  have 
attempted  it.  The  Prince  de  Lieven  was  at  that  time 
appointed  Russian  Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  St.  James's, 
and,  owing  to  the  relations  of  England  with  all  other 
Continental  nations,  he  was  welcomed  with  a  warmth,  and 
treated  with  a  favour  beyond  that  which  would  have  been 
manifested  towards  him  under  any  other  circumstances. 
The  Princess  was  not  slow  to  note  this  enthusiasm,  and  to 
appreciate  its  value ;  she  further  managed  to  win  the  per- 
sonal favour  of  the  Prince  Regent  by  her  gracious  recog- 
nition of  the  Marchioness  of  Conyngham,  necessarily 
unpopular  with  other  ladies,  but  with  whom,  in  pursuance 
of  the  policy  she  saw  the  wisdom  of  adopting,  she  readily 
showed  herself  everywhere ;  for  as  Ambassadress,  and  to 
serve  the  interests  of  the  Power  her  husband  represented,  she 
would  have  justified  herself  in  holding  a  candle  to  the  Devil. 

Her  plan  of  campaign  was  to  ingratiate  herself  into  the 
favour  of  any  one  and  every  one  who  was  in  power,  and  she 
appears  to  have  made  no  secret  of  transferring  her  friend- 
ship as  occasion  required,  from  the  Minister  who  was 
yesterday,  to  him  who  was  to  be  on  the  morrow.  The 
malice  she  always  manifested  towards  Wellington  was,  no 
doubt,  due  to  the  spretce  injuria  formce,  i.e.,  to  her  failure 
to  obtain  any  ascendency  over  him  by  her  fascinations  ;  a 
brief  glance  at  the  tenor  of  her  life  suffices  to  fix  one's 
opinion  as  to  the  value  of  her  friendship  as  friendship ;  it 
was  so  obviously  merely  a  means  to  an  end. 

Talleyrand  says  of  the  Prince  de  Lieven,  that  during  his 
tenure  of  the  French  Embassy  in  1830-4,  "  he  helped  us 


282  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

greatly  by  his  loyalty  and  his  resistance  to  the  ill-advised 
outbursts  of  anger  of  the  Emperor  Nicholas.  M.  de  Lieven," 
he  continues,  "  has  a  great  deal  more  ability  than  is  gene- 
rally supposed ;  in  this  respect,  the  presence  of  his  wife  is 
detrimental  to  him,  as  she  effaces  him  much  more  than  is 
expedient  under  the  circumstances." 

The  Princess  de  Lieven  and  Lady  Palmerston  cordially 
hated  each  other,  and  lost  no  opportunity  of  manifesting 
their  mutual  aversion. 

Frances  Lady  I  have  already,  when  speaking  of  Braham,  referred  to  his 
degrave.  ej^er  daughter  and  her  many  marriages.  It  was,  I  think, 
.when  married  to  her  third  husband,  Mr.  Vernon  Harcourt, 
that  she  settled  into  the  charming  residence  of  classic 
memory,  which  once  sheltered  Horace  Walpole,  and  owed 
its  celebrity  to  him  and  his  priceless  collection,  of  which  she 
sought  in  vain  to  obtain,  and  restore  to  their  ancient  home, 
any  stray  objects.  Lady  Waldegrave  was  very  handsome,  and 
had  a  most  winning  manner  ;  all  who  enjoyed  her  courteous 
and  liberal  hospitality  in  this  unique  historical  mansion, 
surrounded  by  its  quaint  and  beautiful  grounds,  have  agreed 
in  their  charmed  description  of  the  spot,  and  of  its  mistress, 
and  are  unanimous  in  asserting  that  as  a  hostess  she  had 
no  rival,  making  herself  a  favourite  with  every  one,  and 
attracting  around  her  the  elite  of  society. 

sir  Thomas  I  was  once  staying  at  the  seat  of  a  near  relation  in 
Northamptonshire,  when  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Erskine 
May  (afterwards  Lord  and  Lady  Farnborough)  were  among 
the  guests ;  they  had  just  been  at  Strawberry  Hill,  and 
Lady  May's  glowing  description  of  their  late  hostess,  was 
fully  corroborative  of  my  own  impression,  that  she  was 
a  perfect  Mditresse  de  Maisoti;  always  pleasant  and  bright, 
considerate  alike  to  all,  however  numerous  the  company 
might  be ;  possessing  infinite  tact,  consummate  taste,  and 
always  saying  and  doing  the  right  thing,  and  at  the  right 
moment ;  making  every  one  feel  perfectly  at  home,  giving 
the  tone  to  conversation  according  to  the  specialities 


FRANCES  LADY  WALDEGRAVE— LADY  DOUGLAS.  283 

whether  of  intelligence  or  position  of  those  present,  always 
contriving  to  bring,  or  put,  together,  those  most  suitable  to 
each  other,  and  arranging  the  order  of  the  day,  so  that  each 
guest  should  have  his  or  her  turn  at  what  pleased  them 
best,  and  all  in  the  most  natural  and  unobtrusive  manner, 
without  any  appearance  of  calculation  or  effort. 

A  remarkable  woman,  of  whose  society  one  never  seemed  Lady  Douglas. 
to  see  too  much,  yet  of  an  altogether  different  stamp, 
was  Lady  Douglas,  widow  of  General  Sir  Eichard  Douglas, 
who  earned  his  laurels  under  Wellington  in  the  Peninsular 
War.  Lady  Douglas  had  travelled  almost  all  over  the 
world,  taking  the  keenest  interest  in  everything  that  she 
saw;  unhappily  she  became  blind,  but  late  in  life  was 
successfully  couched  by  Critchett  pcre.  She  retained  in  old 
age,  as  is  not  altogether  unusual,  many  of  the  habits  which 
she  had  contracted  during,  and  in  consequence  of,  her  blind- 
ness, and  after  her  recovery  she  would  often  feel  her  way 
about  with  closed  eyes,  as  more  sure  and  expeditious  than 
employing  her  sight  to  direct  her.  A  custom  she  continued, 
was  going  downstairs  backwards  or  ladder-fashion. 

Lady  Douglas  once  gave  me  the  history  of  a  very  curious 
will,  assuring  me  she  could  vouch  for  its  authenticity,  the 
two  men  referred  to,  having  been  in  her  late  husband's 
regiment. 

"  These  two  privates,  it  seems,  were  mates  and  fast  friends. 
On  the  eve  of  an  engagement,  while  talking  over  the  chances 
of  war,  they  came  to  a  mutual  understanding  that  whichever 
of  the  two  survived  the  other,  should  inherit  all  his  belongings. 
In  order  to  insure  the  security  of  the  promise  they  agree  to 
make  their  wills  ;  but  pens  and  paper  at  such  a  crisis  were  not 
to  be  thought  of,  and  after  casting  about  for  an  expedient,  the 
best  to  which  they  could  resort  was  to  make  use  of  a  horn 
lantern  they  found,  and  on  this  they  scratched  their  inten- 
tions with  a  rusty  nail.  It  must  be  admitted  the  device 
was  ingenious.  The  battle  was  fought  and  one  of  the  men 
\vas  killed ;  the  other  in  due  course  returned  to  England 


284  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

bringing  with  him  the  singular  document,  which  by  the 
advice  of  friends  he  took  to  Doctor's  Commons,  where  this 
abnormal  will  was  proved.  But  this  was  not  all ;  the  poor 
fellow  who  had  succumbed,  had,  without  ever  hearing  of  it, 
inherited  a  capital  producing  ,£200  a  year,  and  as  the  terms 
of  the  will  left  to  his  comrade  all  that  he  owned  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  the  legatee  enjoyed  a  very  comfortable  inde- 
pendence." 

A  curious  incident  arising  out  of  my  acquaintance  with 
Lady  Douglas  was  the  following : — 

The  late  learned  and  justly  lamented  Dr.  Birch  was 
lunching  one  day  at  my  house,  when  to  my  surprise  Lady 
Douglas,  whom  I  supposed  to  be  in  Devonshire,  was  an- 
nounced. On  my  introducing  them,  she  no  sooner  heard 
the  Doctor's  name  than  she  exclaimed:  "  What!  Dr.  Samuel 
Birch  of  the  British  Museum  !  Why,  Dr.  Birch,  I  have 
been  dodging  you  all  day  ;  I  must  tell  you  I  came  up  to 
town  from  Devonshire  on  purpose  to  see  you  about  a  case  of 
Australian  skulls  I  sent  a  few  weeks  ago  to  the  British 
Museum  addressed  to  you,  and  as  you  had  not  acknowledged 
the  receipt  of  them  I  wanted  to  ascertain  whether  they  had 
been  delivered ;  I  went  first  to  the  Museum,  and  not  finding 
you  there,  I  drove  to  your  residence,  but  only  to  be  again 
disappointed ;  and  now  that  I  simply  call  to  pay  a  visit  to 
my  friend  here,  I  have  come  down  upon  you  by  the  purest 
accident  and  when  I  least  expected  to  see  you  !  "  The 
lady,  however,  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  from  Dr. 
Birch's  lips  that  her  skulls  were  safe. 

Barry  Barry  Cornwall  (Mr.  W.  Brian  Procter)  I  once  saw,  but 

only  after  he  was  very  infirm  and  failing.  He  lived  for  a 
long  time  in  a  sort  of  semi-solitude,  in  this  state  seeing  no 
visitors  and  unable  to  continue  his  habits  of  literary  activity. 
Mrs.  Procter,  who  survived  him  many  years,  lived  to  a  great 
age,  and  maintained  to  the  last  in  full  force  her  mental  and 
physical  powers — and  also  her  social  taste  for  society.  Her 
death  was  preceded  by  a  very  short  illness,  through  which  she 


MRS.    PROCTER  285 

was  nursed  by  the  granddaughter  who  had  been  her  companion 
subsequently  to  the  death  of  Edythe  Procter,  the  only  one 
of  her  children  who  continued  to  share  her  home,  after  her 
husband's  death.  This  daughter  and  another,  Helen,  became 
Catholics,  as  well  as  Adelaide  Procter,  the  writer. 

I  saw  Mrs.  Procter  not  very  long  before  her  last  illness,  Mrs,  Procter, 
and  she  certainly  had  no  appearance  of  having  attained  the 
age  to  which  she  had  arrived;  she  was,  as  the  saying  is, 
"  all  there,"  was  fashionably  dressed,  and  her  salon  being 
tolerably  full,  she  moved  about  among  her  guests  and  chatted 
first  with  one  and  then  with  another  with  all  the  air  of  a 
person  who  still  took  an  undiminished  interest  in  life  and 
considered  she  had  many  years  before  her.  She  showed  me 
on  that  occasion  an  admirable  photo  of  her  daughter  Adelaide, 
of  whom  she  spoke  with  admiration  and  affection ;  but  she 
impressed  one  with  the  idea  that  she  possessed  a  calm, 
imperturbable  temperament,  not  given  to  dwelling  needlessly 
on  depressing  subjects.  I  followed  her  remains  to  the  grave, 
and  was  surprised  that  a  woman  who  had  been  able  during  a 
long  life  to  collect  round  her  so  many  of  the  celebrities  of 
her  time  should  have  been  attended  to  her  tomb  by  so  small 
a  gathering.  The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  Mrs.  Benson, 
Kinglake,  one  of  her  oldest  friends,  Mr.  George  Smith,  her 
executor,  and  Madame  Parkes  Belloc,  were  among  those  who, 
as  well  as  her  two  surviving  daughters  and  her  granddaughter, 
followed  her  to  the  grave.  The  coffin  was  of  violet  velvet, 
but  was  nearly  concealed  under  large  and  beautiful  wreaths 
of  choice  white  flowers.  Snow  thickly  covered  the  ground, 
but  fortunately  for  those  who  walked  from  the  chapel  to  the 
grave,  none  fell  at  the  time. 

The  spot  chosen  for  the  grave,  in  Kensal  Green  Cemetery, 
was  as  close  as  it  could  be  to  the  boundary  which  divides  it 
from  the  portion  set  apart  for  Catholics,  so  that  Mrs.  Procter's 
remains  lie  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  grave  of  her  two 
daughters,  Adelaide  and  Edythe. 

Mrs.  Procter's  protracted  life  made  her,  as  has  been  said, 


286 


GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 


a  link  between  the  past  and  the  present ;  and  as,  one  by 
one,  her  earlier  friends  dropped  away,  she  lost  no  opportunity 
of  filling  up  their  ranks  with  those  who  succeeded  them  in 
the  literary  and  artistic  world. 

Many  flocked  to  her  weekly  salon  as  to  a  common  centre 
of  attraction,  or  as  to  a  surviving  relic  associated  with 
yesterdays  of  long  ago ;  but  hardly  out  of  sympathetic 
communion  with  their  hostess,  for  they  could  not  have  been 


MES.  PROCTER. 

drawn  to  her  by  attributes  which  she  did  not  possess.  Mrs. 
Procter  was  not  literary,  not  artistic,  not  scientific,  not  a 
politician,  not  a  linguist ;  she  did  not  even  speak  or  under- 
stand French,  and  thought  it  clever  to  boast  she  spoke  110 
language  but  her  own.  From  her  early  youth,  nevertheless, 
Mrs.  Procter  had  been  mixed  up  with  the  world  of  art  and  of 
letters,  and  had  associated  with  cultivated  and  accomplished 
persons ;  she  had  lived  through  stirring  events — events 
which  had  passed  into  history,  and  had  witnessed  many 


MRS.   PROCTER.  287 


remarkable  public  incidents ;  she  had  seen  the  political, 
literary,  and  artistic  history  of  a  century  pass  dioramically 
before  her,  and  could  talk  of  all  this  with  a  certain  authority, 
for  she  enjoyed  a  prestige  almost  unique — that  of  having 
known,  more  or  less  intimately,  all  the  people  of  the  century 
best  worth  knowing — those  who  had  played  their  part  upon 
the  world's  stage,  leaving  name  and  fame  behind  them  ;  and, 
no  doubt,  she  could  have  related,  from  personal  experience, 
something  interesting  of  every  one  of  them.  Mrs.  Procter 
assumed  exclusiveness  as  a  matter  of  right,  and  there  were 
certain  literary  individuals  (of  her  own  sex)  whom  it  was 
quite  understood  she  did  not  choose  to  receive.  She  had  a 
decided  sense  of  humour,  but  rarely  gave  expression  to  it 
without  acrimony ;  accordingly  it  was  not  without  reason 
that  Thackeray  styled  her  "  Our  Lady  of  bitterness." 

She  delighted  in  society  for  society's  sake,  affirming  that 
she  never  was  at  a  party  where  she  did  not  find  something 
to  interest  her,  and  she  must  have  had  experience  enough 
of  parties,  for  she  did  not  seem  able  to  suppose  an  evening 
could  be  spent  at  home.  A  friend  once  condoling  with  her, 
on  learning  from  her  that  she  had  not  been  out  for  weeks, 
on  account  of  the  cold,  and  remarking  how  dull  it  must  have 
been  for  her  to  be  shut  up  all  that  time,  she  explained— 
"  Oh!  but  of  course,  I  have  been  out  every  evening." 

Her  greatest  enjoyment  was  dining  out,  and  she  received 
numberless  invitations,  though  she  never  gave  dinners  her- 
self; indeed,  even  in  the  Weymouth  Street  days,  when  "  Barry 
Cornwall  "  was  living,  the  dinners  they  gave  could  scarcely 
be  termed  dinner-parties,  being  quite  informal  and  never 
comprising  more  than  half-a-dozen  intimates ;  and  friends 
would  drop  in  in  a  familiar  way  and  have  half  an  hour's  chat 
as  they  went  to  or  came  from  other  houses :  Thackeray 
constantly  looked  in  on  them  in  this  free-and-easy  way. 

^Irs.  Procter  did  not  keep  a  carriage,  indeed  her  means 
would  not  have  admitted  of  her  indulging  in  that  luxury, 
though  she  was  able  to  live  in  comfort,  and  even  elegance,. 


288  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

in  Albert  Hall  Mansions  :  she  had  so  many  friends  who 
kept  carriages  and  were  always  glad  either  to  lend  her  one 
or  to  take  her  out  for  a  drive,  that,  as  she  had  no  objection 
to  avail  herself  of  these  facilities,  she  really  did  not  need  a 
conveyance  of  her  own. 

Though  fond  of  social  gatherings  of  nearly  every  descrip- 
tion, Mrs.  Procter  could  not  stand  the  amateur  drama,  and 
being  invited  to  attend  a  play  performed  by  young  ladies  and 
young  gentlemen  of  not  very  practised  abilities,  she  replied, 
"  Yes,  my  dear,  I'll  come  if  you  wish  it,  but  my  terms  for 
simple  attendance  are  five  shillings,  and  if  I'm  expected  to 
applaud,  it's  seven-arid- six." 

No  doubt  many  sparkling  anecdotes  would  see  the  light  if 
Mrs.  Procter's  memoirs  were  written,  but  as  she  deprecated 
any  such  proceeding  probably  her  wish  will  be  respected. 
Kinglake  regularly  attended  her  weekly  salon,  and  many 
bright  conversations  passed  between  them.  One  day  when 
they  were  talking  of  the  pertinacity  of  the  sex,  Mr.  Kinglake 
gave  out  as  his  opinion  that  if  a  woman  took  it  into  her 
head  to  marry  a  man,  she  would  in  some  way  or  another 
contrive  that  he  should  propose  it  to  her,  however  averse  he 
may  have  originally  been  to  the  idea. 

"What  a  pity,"  replied  Mrs.  Procter,  "  that  you  shouldn't 
have  known  me  when  I  was  young  and  free  !  " 

It  is  not  for  the  outer  world  to  inquire  into  the  religious 
views  and  feelings  of  even  a  semi-public  character  unless  of 
one  who  has  more  or  less  openly  and  controversially  expressed 
opinions  on  the  subject,  and  this  was  by  no  means  the  habit 
of  the  lady  under  our  consideration ;  but  it  may  be  interesting 
to  know  that  during  her  last  illness,  Mrs.  Procter  more  than 
once  expressed  the  wish  to  have  prayers  read  beside  her,  and 
that  she  followed  them  with  reverent  attention.  The  last 
word  she  spoke  distinctly  was,  "  Pray."  I  am  told  by  Mr. 
Edward  Walford,  that,  dining  in  Eaton  Place  in  the  early 
part  of  1887,  he  took  Mrs.  Procter  in  to  dinner,  and  in  con- 
versation she  remarked  that  she  hoped  she  should  live  to  see 


MADAME   MOHL.  289 


the  Queen's  Jubilee,  as  she  was  probably  one  of  the  few  who 
remembered  that  of  George  III.,  and  after  witnessing  that 
of  his  granddaughter,  she  thought  she  might  say  her  Nunc 
dhnittis.  This  hope  was  fulfilled,  and  she  enjoyed  the 
further  gratification  of  an  invitation  to  Her  Majesty's  Jubilee 
Garden  Party  at  Buckingham  Palace,  an  attention  which 
she  felt  to  be  most  graceful  on  the  part  of  the  Queen.  Mrs. 
Procter  died  in  the  spring  of  the  following  year. 

Another  venerable  and  remarkable  old  lady  to  whom  the  Madame 

M    V»l 

Queen  was  very  gracious,  was  Madame  Mohl — Mary  Anne 
Clarke.  In  some  respects  she  resembled  Mrs.  Procter  ;  but, 
though  she  may  have  rivalled  her  in  longevity,  age  told 
upon  her  much  more  perceptibly,  both  morally  and  physi- 
cally :  Madame  Mohl  was  the  widow  of  M.  Jules  Mohl, 
the  distinguished  Oriental  scholar,  and  continued  to  the  end, 
to  live  in  the  Eue  du  Bac,  where,  during  so  many  years  she 
had  held  her  brilliant  Mercredis,  a  literary  fossil ;  but,  as 
in  Mrs.  Procter's  case,  the  literary  qualification  did  not 
apply  to  herself  personally,  but  to  her  surroundings. 

When  visiting  Paris  from  time  to  time,  I  used  to  go  and  see 
the  old  lady,  at  her  well-known  residence  in  the  old-fashioned 
quarter,  at  a  very  elevated  height,  and  I  could  perceive 
on  each  occasion,  a  manifest  change  in  her  physical  as  well 
as  her  mental  condition.  She  gradually  became  more 
wrinkled  and  more  wizened,  and  whereas  Mrs.  Procter  was 
admirably  conservee  to  the  last,  Madame  Mohl  seemed  to 
have  become  indifferent  to  her  appearance,  or  perhaps  was 
unconscious  how  heavily  the  hand  of  time  had  been  laid 
upon  her  ;  with  the  decay  of  her  physical  powers,  her  mental 
faculties  became  dimmed,  and  at  last  she  lost  the  capacity 
for  remembering  persons,  faces,  recent  events,  and  names, 
though  she  could  still,  clearly,  and  in  a  lively  style,  relate 
long-past  incidents. 

One  day  I  had  been  conversing  with  her  for  some  little 
time,  when  she  suddenly  said  very  politely — 

"You're   very   agreeable    I'm    sure,    and    very  good   to 

VOL.  i.  20 


290  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

come  and  see  me ;  but  will  you  kindly  tell  me  who  you 
are?" 

I  mentioned  my  name,  and  even  alluded  to  an  incident  on 
the  occasion  of  my  last  visit,  but  failed  to  reach  her 
memory  ;  she  appeared  puzzled  and  seemed  to  be  trying  to 
remember  ;  I  then  added — 

"  Don't  you  recollect,  Madame  Mohl,  our  meeting  at  the 
Deanery  at  Westminster  ?  " 

"Ah!  yes,"  she  answered  at  once,  "and  dear  Lady 
Augusta  introduced  us ;  to  be  sure ;  I  remember  it  all  dis- 
tinctly," and  then,  as  if  that  name  had  called  up  a  whole 
past,  she  went  back  to  the  first  meeting  of  Lady  Augusta 
with  Dean  Stanley,  the  romantic  circumstances  of  their 
fortuitous  acquaintance,  their  courtship,  their  marriage  and 
the  "  very  considerable  share  "  she  always  believed  she  had 
had  in  it. 

It  was,  no  doubt,  a  curious  story,  that  of  the  unlooked-for 
and  accidental  rencontre  in  a  Swiss  mountain  inn,  whither 
the  two  parties  on  whom  it  was  to  produce  such  enduring 
results,  were  respectively  driven  by  fate  to  take  shelter  from 
the  sudden  storm.  Novel  writers  employ  such  picturesque 
incidents,  but  they  have  to  invent  them,  and  the  reader 
smiles  and  says,  "How  unlikely!" — "How  forced!' 
Probably  they  occur  oftener  than  we  suppose,  in  real  life, 
and  then  we  make  the  most  of  them  and  try  to  help  out  the 
circumstances. 

Madame  Mohl  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  Deanery,  and 
for  many  reasons  was  looked  on  as  an  interesting  survivor 
of  past  times.  Once,  when  staying  there,  Her  Majesty 
expressed  a  wish  to  see  the  old  lady  before  her  return  to 
France,  and  Lady  Augusta  communicated  this  gracious  Eoyal 
desire  to  her  guest.  A  shyness  (difficult,  however,  to  account 
for  in  one  who  held  a  sort  of  Court  of  her  own,  and 
had  so  long  been  an  object  of  interest  and  regard  among 
litterateurs  and  savants)  impelled  her  to  declare  that  she  felt 
by  no  means  eqiial  to  such  an  interview ;  and  no  persuasions 


LADY   DUKINFIELD.  291 


of  Lady  Augusta's  could  induce  her  to  go  to  Windsor. 
Whether  a  Winstar  of  Mahomet  and  the  mountain,  or 
whether  the  Queen  happened  to  pay  a  visit  at  the  Deanery, 
I  know  not,  hut  it  appears  Her  Majesty  came  unexpectedly 
upon  Madame  Mohl,  who,  as  it  turned  out,  had  much  better 
have  attired  herself  with  becoming  care,  and  waited  upon 
the  Queen  of  England  in  her  Royal  domain ;  for  it  so  hap- 
pened that  the  wilful  old  lady,  being  quite  unprepared  for 
the  honour,  was  wearing  a  pair  of  black  kid  gloves  by  no 
means  in  their  premie  re  jeunesse,  and  her  mind,  which  should 
have  been  at  its  brightest  for  such  an  interview,  was  entirely 
occupied  with  trying  to  conceal  some  holes  in  the  fingers  of 
these  gloves.,  and  with  speculating  on  the  probability  that 
they  had  not,  even  then,  escaped  Her  Majesty's  observation. 

M;  i  dame  Mohl  has  left  in  Paris  the  reputation  of  having 
been" mauvaise,"  often* launching  out  into  unamiable innuen- 
does when  speaking  of  others ;  she  was  less  amusing  in 
her  insinuations  than  Mrs.  Procter,  who  had  wit  enough  to 
veil  under  a  bon  mot,  the  proverbial  asperity  in  which  she 
indulged  :  such  remarks  are,  however,  all  the  more  mis- 
•chievous  when  presented  in  a  brilliant  dress,  as  they  are  less 
likely  to  be  forgotten.  Madame  Mohl  had  an  excusable 
horror  of  boys,  and,  among  other  original  remarks,  used  to 
.say  on  this  subject  it  was  a  pity  men  couldn't  come  into  the 
world  grown  up. 

Among  women  of  this  time  who  attained  a  vigorous  Ion- 
gevity,  may  be  named  Lady  Dukinfield  (widow  of  General 
•Sir  George  Dukinfield),  who  danced  at  the  famous  Brussels 
hall  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  being  then  fif- 
teen. A  year  or  two  ago  I  was  at  a  literary  gathering  at 
Mr.  Edward  Walford's,  where  I  met  a  niece  of  this  lady's, 
who  told  me  she  had  just  left  her  aunt  sitting  by  her  fire 
enjoying  a  book  ;  she  was,  therefore,  it  appeared,  in  posses- 
sion of  all  her  faculties. 

Yet  both  these  heroines  of  time  fade  in  importance  when 
vcompared  with  the  mother  of  Crabb  Robinson.  A  friend  of 


292  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

mine  (The  Chisholm)  tells  me  that  this  old  lady  used  to 
relate  a  strange  occurrence  that  took  place  in  the  year  1745, 
when  she  was  a  child  and  attending  service  in  an  Unitarian 
Meeting-house,  where,  having  fallen  asleep,  she  suddenly 
awoke  and  interrupted  the  proceedings  by  exclaiming,  in  the 
hushed  stillness  of  the  solemnity,  "  The  red  coats  are  upon 
us  !  "  After  a  moment  of  terror,  investigation  showed  that 
the  young  girl  had  mistaken  the  sun-light  which  happened 
to  shine  through  a  crimson  blind,  for  the  scarlet  uniforms 
of  the  English  troops.  Unitarians,  as  such,  could  have  had 
no  special  persecution  to  dread,  but  the  child's  mind  was 
probably  full  of  "wars  and  rumours  of  wars"  in  those 
troublous  times. 

Miss  O'Brien.  Being  many  years  ago  at  Lady  Henry  Paulett's,  at  West 
Hill,  Hants,  I  met  a  lady  of  rather  remarkable  character, 
being  one  of  the  two  daughters  (Gertrude  Matilda,  and 
Mary  Catherine,  O'Brien)  of  the  younger  brother  of  William, 
second  and  last  Marquis  of  Thomond,  whom  he  predeceased. 
As  the  Marquis  left  no  male  issue,  this  lady,  had  she  been 
born  of  the  sterner  sex,  would  in  due  course,  have  succeeded 
to  the  family  estates  and  honours.  It  was  a  vexatious 
mistake  of  "  Providence  "  who  is  made  responsible  for  what 
the  world  considers  its  miseries,  and  Miss  O'Brien  never 
forgave  Providence. 

As  she  could  not  turn  herself  into  a  man  to  the  desired  in- 
tents and  purposes,  she  resolved  to  make  herself  as  unlike  a 
woman  as  possible,  and  succeeded  admirably,  so  far,  that  when 
she  was  met  driving,  whether  a  dog-cart  or  a  tilbury  (for  she 
disdained  any  more  feminine  vehicle),  wearing  cropped  hair, 
a  man's  hat  and  a  deep  cloth  driving  cape,  none  but  the 
initiated  would  have  suspected  she  could  be  one  of  the  fair 
sex.  No  doubt  she  was  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  un- 
fairness with  which  nature  had  used  her,  and  her  mode  of 
resentment  was  at  least  harmless.  It  was  amusing,  when 
meeting  her  on  the  road,  to  observe  the  perfectly  natural 
action  of  her  salute,  following  the  fashion  of  a  coachman, 


MISS   O'BKIEN.  293 


and   elevating   the  little   finger  of  the   whip-hand  with  a 
jerk. 

An  Irish  Captain  (E.N.),  discussing  this  lady's  pecu- 
liarities, remarked,  "  Ah  !  shure  it's  too  late  now  ;  there  was 
only  one  way  out  of  it,  for  her — she  should  have  heen  changed 
at  nurse." 


MEN   OF  THE   SWORD. 


1  But  yesterday — and  who  had  mightier  breath  ! 

A  thousand  warriors  at  his  word  were  kept 
In  awe  :  he  said,  as  the  centurion  saith, 

'  Go,'  and  he  goeth  ;  '  Come,'  and  forth  he  stepp'd. 
The  trump  and  bugle  till  he  spake  were  dumb, 
And  now  ! — Naught  left  him  but  the  muffled  drum 

And  they  who  waited  then,  and  worshipp'd — they 
"With  their  rough  faces  thronged  about  the  bed 

To  gaze  once  more  on  the  commanding  clay 
Which  for  the  last,  but  not  the  first  time,  bled." 

— BYRON. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MEN    OF    THE    SWOED. 

"  .  .  .  .  Claruin  et  venerabile  nomen 
Gentibus,  et  multum  nostrae  quod  proderat  urbi." — LUCAN. 

".  .  .  .  what  deeds  of  valour  unrecorded,  died  ?" — BYRON. 

fTlHERE  is  little  that  could  be  new  to  the  public,  to  be  Field  Marshal 
JL     recorded  of  Field  Marshal  the  Duke  of  Wellington —       Wellington. 

".  .  .  .  the  noblest  man 
That  ever  lived  in  the  tide  of  tune." 

But  what  little  there  may  be,  should  still  be  worth  saying, 
because  it  may  serve  to  throw  a  faint  flicker  on  the  character 
of  a  man  of  whom  his  country  can  scarcely  be  proud  enough. 
There  can  hardly  ever  have  been  a  man  of  more  marked 
personality  than  the  Duke.  His  face,  once  seen,  would  not 
easily  be  forgotten;  every  feature  in  it  was  eloquent  of  his 
fine  attributes,  and  there  was  an  underlying  dignity  in 
their  every  movement.  If  his  height  was,  physically 
speaking,  not  commanding,  his  moral  power  was  mani- 
fested in  every  attitude,  and  so  was  his  unobtrusive  con- 
sciousness of  it.  Being  scarcely  above  the  middle  height 
it  was  not  an  advantage  to  him  to  be  seen  on  foot,  and 
it  was  even  said  that  when  mounted  the  "  horse  and 
his  rider  "  did  not  form  so  graceful  a  group  as  might  be 
expected,  though  his  horsemanship  was  perfect,  and  his 
characteristic  self-possession  always  gave  him  a  distin- 
guished air ;  perhaps  those  who  expressed  that  dissatisfied 
opinion  unconsciously  took  their  idea  from  the  bronze 
equestrian  failures  intended  to  represent  him,  yet  the  Duke 


298  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

was  so  often  to  be  met  in  and  about  Hyde  Park  that 
the  London  public  of  the  time,  had  plenty  of  opportunity  to 
compare  the  living  model  with  the  uncomplimentary  effigy. 
One  thing  is  certain,  that  wherever  the  "  Iron  Duke  "  might 
be  seen,  his  presence  evoked  an  eager  but  respectful  recog- 
nition which  he  never  failed  to  acknowledge  with  his  stereo- 
typed salute  of  two  fingers  to  the  brim  of  his  hat.  The 
veneration  his  presence  inspired  in  men  of  all  ranks,  and  all 
nationalities,  was  not  confined  to  his  person,  his  name  alone 
was  a  talisman.  No  doubt  the  consciousness  of  this  wide- 


F.-M.  THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON,  E.G. 

spread  appreciation  was  gratifying  to  the  object  of  it,  though 
he  is  known,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  to  have  resented 
its  too  demonstrative  expression ;  take,  for  instance,  the 
following  : 

A  "  gentleman,"  who  had  long  been  seeking  an  oppor- 
tunity of  getting  remarked  by  the  Duke,  one  day  met  him 
on  foot  in  Piccadilly,  and  was  so  absorbed  in  staring  at  him 
that  he  would  have  been  run  over  had  not  Wellington  him- 
self called  his  attention  to  his  danger ;  taking  advantage  of 
the  opportunity  he  had  so  long  and  eagerly  sought,  he  had 
the  bad  taste  to  follow  the  Duke  home,  and,  coming  up  with 


THE   DUKE   OF   WELLINGTON.  299 

his  Grace  as  he  was  putting  the  latch-key  into  his  door,  he 
contrived  to  say  that — "  He  should  now  always  value  a  life 
which  had  been  saved  by  the  greatest  man  that  ever 
existed."  The  Duke,  apparently  disgusted  with  this 
flunkeyism,  pushed  the  door  open  and  entered,  replying 
curtly  and  expressively  without  even  turning  his  head — 
"Don't  be  a  d— d  fool." 

This  snob  probably  went  away  boasting,  and  perhaps 
believing,  ever  after,  that  he  had  "  held  a  conversation  " 
with  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

Notwithstanding  the  dissatisfaction  the  Duke  gave  to  his 
oppositionists,  when  in  office,  and  that  Brougham,  finding 
himself  thwarted  in  his  motion  for  the  production  of  naval 
instructions  about  Sardinian  ships,  went  so  far  as  to  con- 
clude a  string  of  invectives  against  him  as  soon  as  he  had 
declared  against  it,  with — "  Westminster  Abbey  is  yawning 
for  him,"  not  only  did  his  high  character  continue  to 
command  the  respect  of  all  honest  men  even  if  they  dis- 
agreed with  him,  but  led  to  very  disadvantageous  com- 
parisons between  Brougham  and  himself. 

"  Wise,  moderate,  and  impartial  men  of  all  parties," 
writes  Charles  Greville,  "  view  the  Duke's  conduct  in  its 
true  light  and  render  him  that  justice,  the  full  measure  of 
which  it  is  reserved  for  history  and  posterity  to  pay.  No 
greater  contrast,"  he  continues,  "  can  be  displayed  than 
between  the  minds  of  Wellington  and  Brougham.!  It  is 

*  Yet,  on  another  occasion,  Brougham  did  the  Duke  more  justice,  remarking : 
"  That  man's  object  is  to  serve  his  country,  with  a  sword  if  necessary,  but  he 
would  do  it  with  a  pickaxe."  He  also  said,  speaking  of  the  Duke's  despatches: 

'•  They  will  be  remembered  when  I  and and will  be  forgotten."  Lord 

Aberdeen  repeated  this  to  the  Duke,  who  answered  with  the  greatest  simplicity : 
li  That's  very  true ;  when  I  read  them  myself  I  was  astonished,  and  can't  think 
how  the  devil  I  could  have  written  them." 

f  Brougham,  on  one  occasion,  replying,  in  the  House,  with  great  animosity  to  a 
speech  of  Wellington's,  went  out  of  his  way  to  bring  in  old  Lord  Rolle,  remarkable 
for  his  stiff  Tory  principles ;  the  latter,  who  was  quite  above  conventionalities, 
was  so  exasperated  that,  after  Brougham  had  sat  down,  he  v/alked  up  to  the  Woolsack 
and  said  in  loud  and  distinct  tones  :  "  My  Lord,  I  wish,  you  to  know  that  I  have 
the  greatest  contempt  for  you,  both  in  this  House  and  out  of  it." 


300  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

a  curious  and  interesting  study  to  examine  and  compare 
their  powers,  faculties,  attainments,  the  moral  and  intellec- 
tual constitutions  of  the  two  men,  their  respective  careers, 
with  the  results  of  these,  and  the  world's  judgment  upon 
them." 

As  to  the  Duke's  personal  influence  with  the  army,  there 
never  was   any  question,   but  that  that  was   irresistible,— 
magnetic. 

An  interesting  instance  of  this  moral  power,  and  of  its 
value,  occurred  in  June,  1820,  when  a  sudden  mutiny  broke 
out  in  the  1st  battalion  of  Horse  Guards,  and  the  disaffected 
men  wTere  immediately  sentenced  to  be  transferred  from  the 
Metropolis  to  Portsmouth  and  Plymouth,  a  punishment 
which  appears  to  have  been  keenly  felt  by  the  delinquents, 
who  recognized  in  it  a  depth  of  disgrace  which  filled  them 
with  shame. 

The  first  half  had  been  thus  disposed  of  without  delay, 
in  order  to  diminish  the  difficulty  of  dealing  with  the  whole, 
as  they  could  not  all  be  sent  at  once  :  when  the  time  came 
to  despatch  the  second  detachment,  they  had  orders  to  be 
completely  equipped  and  ready  to  start  at  four  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  at  that  hour,  on  the  appointed  day,  the  beat  of  drums 
assembled  them  in  the  Eoyal  Mews ;  they  were  no  sooner 
drawn  up  than,  early  as  was  the  hour,  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton appeared,  mounted  on  his  charger,  and  followed  by  a 
single  aide-de-camp.  The  men  stood  there  with  downcast 
countenances  and  an  air  of  humiliation  ;  his  Grace  rode 
between  the  ranks,  a  sad  expression  on  his  features,  but 
spoke  not  a  word — his  presence  was  enough,  a  spontaneous 
explosion  of  grief  burst  from  the  men,  and  with  tears  they 
exclaimed — "  God  bless  the  Duke  !  God  save  the  King  ! 
We  love  the  good  sovereign  we  serve." 

The  word  "  March  "  was  given,  and  they  took  their  way 
in  silent  sorrow.  The  rest  of  the  Guards  had  not  been 
influenced  by  the  bad  example,  and  remained  in  a  state  of 
perfect  discipline. 


THE   DUKE    OF   WELLINGTON.  301 

Great  as  was  the  Duke's  popularity,  it  had  its  alternations, 
and  the  cowardly  attack  perpetrated  on  his  dwelling  by  the 
mob,  in  1831,  when  the  Eeform  Bill  was  under  discussion, 
was  a  lasting  disgrace  to  the  Metropolis.  Nothing  could  be 
more  opportune,  or  more  worthy  of  respect,  than  the  bearing 
of  the  Duke  whenever  he  was  the  object  of  such  mistaken 
and  disgraceful  demonstrations  ;  that  with  which  the  mob 
thought  fit  to  attack  him  in  the  year  1832,  on  the  very 
anniversary  of  the  victory  of  Waterloo  was,  perhaps,  the 
most  cowardly  and  the  most  contemptible. 

The  profound  respect  the  Duke's  character  commanded 
was  due  to  the  fact  which  his  worst  enemies  never  attempted 
to  refute,  that  he  stood  alone  in  patriotism  and  disinterested- 
ness. It  has  never  been  denied  by  any  one  that  there 
perhaps  never  was  a  man  who  so  completely  laid  aside  all 
party  and  personal  considerations  when  any  national  object 
was  in  view;  and,  says  Charles  Greville,  "  he  had  the 
satisfaction  and  the  glory  of  living  to  hear  this  universally 
acknowledged." 

I  was  talking  lately  of  past  events  in  and  around  Hyde  Park 
to  an  old  gentleman,  when  he  told  me  that  he,  like  myself,  was 
an  eye-witness  of  a  curious  incident  connected  with  one  of 
these  unseemly  riots.  Some  years  after  the  above-named  out- 
rage there  was  a  Grand  Eeview  in  the  Park  before  the  Duke,, 
who  was  enthusiastically  received.  As  he  rode  home  after  it 
was  over,  he  was  followed  by  the  immense  crowd,  unanimously 
cheering  him,  waving  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  and  exhibit- 
ing every  possible  manifestation  of  appreciation  and  affection. 
The  great  Field  Marshal  rode  on,  apparently  unconscious 
that  all  these  expressions  of  regard  were  intended  for  himself, 
although  those  who  scrutinized  his  genial  features  might 
have  detected  in  them  a  curious  expression  at  once  of 
humour  and  pity.  At  length  he  reached  Apsley  House,  and 
a  fresh  burst  of  enthusiasm  broke  out ;  then  .  .  .  the  "  con- 
quering hero  "  gave  the  first  indication  that  he  recognized 
the  intention  of  these  acclamations,  but  only  by  silently 


:302  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

raising  his  hand  and  waving  it  towards  the  iron  shutters. 
Those  barred  windows,  a  memento  of  the  injurious  treat- 
ment of  England's  greatest  hero,  which  ought  to  bring  a 
blush  to  the  cheek  of  every  Briton,  have  now,  for  sixty 
years,  borne  their  silent  testimony  to  the  brutality  of  the 
London  mob. 

When  the  Duke  was  Premier,  and  enjoying  the  confidence, 
successively,  of  George  IV.  and  William  IV.,  the  envy  of 
his  political  opponents  was  manifested  with  much  bitterness. 
'The  mean  jealousy  of  which  he  was  the  object  has  been 
betrayed  with  surpassing  candour  in  that  singular  corre- 
spondence— arising  from  the  still  more  singular  and  gushing 
intimacy — between  Lord  Grey  and  that  clever  and  insinu- 
ating intrigante,  his  "Dearest  Princess"  de  Lieven  ;  the 
hatred  and  malice  entertained  by  this  pair  against  the 
Duke  are,  throughout  the  greater  part  of  these  volumes, 
more  evident  than  edifying.  The  sobriquet  by  which  they 
derisively  designate  the  Duke  in  their  communications,  is 
"The  great  Captain." 

Their  politics  being  opposed  to  his,  it  is,  perhaps,  only 
natural  they  should  cavil  at  his  statesmanship  ;  but  there  is 
so  much  acrimony  and  invidiousness  in  the  tone  they  both 
adopt  when  speaking  of  him,  that  it  savours  of  personal 
pique,  and  leads  the  reader  to  conclude  that  their  disap- 
proval of  his  policy  does  not  proceed  entirely  from  noble  and 
disinterested  sentiments. 

Nor  can  the  reader,  with  the  best  will  in  the  world,  satis- 
factorily explain  to  himself  the  manifest  pertinacity  with 
which  Lord  Grey  and  his  partisans  tried,  more  or  less 
openly,  to  spread  the  idea  that  the  Sovereigns,  who  suc- 
cessively trusted  Wellington  with  the  helm  of  government, 
neither  believed  in  him  nor  loved  him,  but  simply  desired  to 
retain  him  because  they  were  afraid  of  him ;  indeed  Lord 
Grey  and  his  party  scarcely  disguised  their  determination  to 
throw  discredit  on  any  measures  adopted  by  the  Duke,  bent 
.as  they  were  on  embarrassing  and  undermining  the  Cabinet 


TALLEYRAND'S   OPINION   OF   WELLINGTON.         303 

he  had  formed :  .the  ulterior  object,  after  overthrowing  the 
Government  by  these  machinations,  it  is  not  difficult  to 
guess. 

Lord  Grey  says  that  Louis  Philippe,  before  he  came  to 
the  throne,  told  him  confidentially  "  he  did  not  care  for 
Wellington,  and  did  not  think  much  of  his  diplomacy,"  and 
it  certainly  seems  too  much  to  expect  that  a  consummate 
general  should  also  be  a  consummate  statesman;  neverthe- 
less, Talleyrand, — himself  renowned  in  the  latter  capacity, — 
and  great  enough,  therefore,  to  afford  his  admiration  for  what 
he  was  too  clever  not  to  discern  in  others,  went  so  far  as  to 
assert  that  "he  considered  Wellington,  take  him  for  all  in 
all,  the  greatest  man  that  had  ever  been  produced  in  any 
age  or  country."  Talleyrand's  opinion,  too,  was  formed, 
not  on  historical  knowledge  of  his  superiority  as  a  warrior, 
but  from  personal  observation  of  his  straightforward  prin- 
ciples, calm  judgment,  and  intrepid  determination  in  diplo- 
matic dealings — for  Talleyrand  was  Ministre  des  Affaires 
Etrangeres  when  Wellington,  as  English  Ambassador,  was 
in  Paris  in  1814-15,  and  the  dignity  of  the  Duke's  conduct 
on  every  occasion,  produced  on  that  astute  and  far-seeing 
statesman  a  profound  impression,  while  it  raised  the  prestige 
of  the  whole  English  nation,  in  the  estimation  of  France. 

Talleyrand's  career  was  among  those  which  are  full  of 
interest  and  end  by  commanding  admiration.  It  is  not 
always  true  that  "  the  boy  is  father  of  the  man  "  :  had 
we  stopped  short  in  the  middle  of  Talleyrand's  history, 
and  had  said,  "  We  don't  need  to  see  any  more  of  it,"  we 
should  have  formed  a  very  erroneous  opinion  of  that  re- 
markable— not  to  say  that  great — man.  The  closing  years 
of  his  life  convinced  the  world  that  there  was  an  underlying 
stratum  in  his  character,  which,  after  circumstances  had 
elicited  it,  materially  modified  the  view  that  had  been  taken 
of  much  of  his  earlier  life. 

Charles  Greville,  who  had  the  best  opportunities  of 
knowing,  affirms,  from  personal  experience,  that  "  his  age 


304  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

was  venerable,  his  society  delightful,  and  there  was  an 
exhibition  of  conservative  wisdom,  '  of  moderate  and  healing 
counsels,'  in  all  his  thoughts,  words,  and  actions,  very 
becoming  to  his  years  and  station,  vastly  influential  from 
his  sagacity  and  experience,  and  which  presented  him, 
to  the  eyes  of  men,  as  a  statesman  like  Burleigh  or  Claren- 
don, for  prudence,  temperance,  and  discretion.  Here,  there- 
fore, he  acquired  golden  opinions,  and  was  regarded  by  all 
ranks  and  all  parties  with  respect,  and  by  many  with  sincere 
regard :  when  attacked  in  the  House  of  Lords,  Wellington 
rose  in  his  defence,  and  rebuked  the  acrimony  of  Talley- 
rand's own  friends :  Talleyrand  was  deeply  affected  by  this 
behaviour  of  the  Duke's." 

It  is  with  surprise  we  find,  notwithstanding  his  con- 
stant and  multifarious  communication  with  foreign  nations, 
and  the  terms  of  friendty  understanding  on  which  he  was 
with  their  greatest  men,  that  the  Duke  never  succeeded 
in  really  mastering  any  Continental  language  so  as  to  be  able 
to  converse  in  it.  Spanish,  he  perhaps,  knew  best,  and  of 
Italian  he  had  a  partial  knowledge  ;  but  his  French  was 

deplorable  ;  the  accent  was  altogether  that  of  a  native of 

England ;  and  his  idiomatic  blunders  were  often  so  ludicrous 
that,  but  for  the  great  respect  commanded  by  his  person, 
his  character,  and  his  position,  those  who  listened  would 
never  have  been  able  to  keep  their  countenance ;  neither 
does  it  appear  that  his  frequent  and  protracted  residences 
in  France  were  of  any  help  in  the  acquisition  of  the 
language. 

Wellington's  voice  was  not  made  for  oratory,  whether  as 
to  tone,  quality,  or  power.  It  was  weak  and  wiry,  not  to 
say  shrill,  and  was  not  distinctly  heard  at  a  distance — unless 
when  he  shouted  in  the  field.  He  was  also  deficient  in 
fluency.  Nor  was  he  master  of  action,  generally  confining 
himself  to  striking  the  table,  but  without  violence,  when  he 
wanted  to  emphasize  his  discourse.  The  Duke's  humour 
was  very  characteristic,  and  he  seems  to  have  been  always 


THE  DUKE'S  MABRIA.GE.  305 

ready  with  a  repartee  when  such  was  required.  His  reply 
to  George  IV.,  when  His  Majesty  appealed  to  him  as  to 
whether  it  was  not  he  himself  who  had  gained  the  victory 
at  Waterloo  was  admirable  ;  to  not  one  man  in  a  hundred, 
perhaps,  would  it  have  occurred  to  make  so  witty,  and  at 
the  same  time  so  judicious,  respectful,  and  unanswerable  a 
reply;  scarcely  more  apt,  however,  than  his  answer  to  a 
young  (probably  very  young)  lady,  who  asked  him  if  it  were 
true  that  he  was  surprised  at  Waterloo.  "  No,  my  dear," 
he  answered  with  a  smile,  "  but  I  am,  now !  " 

When  the  Rev.  W.  J.  E.  Bennett,  of  St.  Barnabas 
memory,  was  incumbent  of  St.  Paul's,  Knight sbridge,  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  (as  well  as  the  Duke  of  Cambridge) 
might  be  constantly  seen  at  the  services  there,  and  the 
former  frequently  walked  over  from  Apsley  House  to  attend 
the  week-day  morning  prayer. 

There  are  some  curious  and  interesting  revelations  of 
the  Duke's  domestic  life  in  a  rare  volume  of  Maria  Edge- 
worth's  Correspondence,  printed  for  private  circulation  only, 
and  to  the  number  of  but  fifty  copies.  She  supplies  much 
detail  about  the  matrimonial  episode  in  Wellington's 
existence,  telling  of  his  early  engagement,  when  young, 
and  before  he  went  to  India.  His  fiancee  was  the  Hon. 
Catherine  Pakenham,  daughter  of  Lord  Longford  (better 
known  as  "  Kitty  Pakenham  ").  Time  had  passed,  however, 
and,  alas  !  with  it,  much  of  the  lady's  youth  and  beauty, 
when,  early  in  the  century,  the  Duke  returned  to  England. 
It  would  seem  also  that  the  early  affection  of  the  affianced 
pair  had,  from  these  or  other  causes,  lost  some  of  its 
pristine  fervour  ;  but,  notwithstanding  this,  and  the  ravages 
of  the  small-pox,  which  had  greatly  disfigured  the  lady,  the 
Duke  remained  true  to  his  promise,  and  they  were  married 
in  1806,  two  sons  being  born  of  the  marriage. 

The  Duchess  fell  into  ill-health  some  time  before  her 
death,  in  1813 ;  and  when  she  was  very  ill,  she  begged  to 
be  carried  down  into  the  spacious  room  at  Apsley  House, 

VOL.  i.  21 


306  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

adorned  with  so  many  of  her  husband's  panoplies  and 
trophies  of  war,  and  there  she  desired  she  might  remain  till 
her  death,  which  took  place  as  she  lay  surrounded  by  all 
these  mementos  of  his  glory. 

The  Duke  delighted  in  field  sports,  and  was  especially 
partial  to  fox-hunting.  His  opinion  of  its  effects  on  the 
habits  and  character  can  be  guessed  from  the  fact  that  he 
always  chose  his  aides-de-camp,  if  possible,  among  fox- 
hunters,  considering  that  "  they  knew  how  to  ride  straight 
to  a  given  point,  that  they  generally  rode  good  horses,  and 
were  equally  willing  to  charge,  whether  a  big  place  or  an 
enemy." 

The  Duke  was  not  only  fond  of  fox-hunting,  but  gave  it 
liberal  encouragement.  Having  heard  that  there  was  a 
sudden  defalcation  in  the  funds  supporting  a  pack  to  which 
he  subscribed,  and  being  told  that  the  indifference  of  the 
other  contributors  was  such  as  to  lead  to  but  little  expecta- 
tion that  they  would  make  up  the  deficiency,  he  said,. 
"  Well,  get  what  you  can  from  them,  and  I  will  make  up 
the  difference."  The  sum  he  was  thus  let  in  for,  turned  out. 
to  be  <£600  a  year. 

He  maintained  a  mutually-sincere  and  familiar  friendship 
with  Assheton  Smith.  The  following  is  a  characteristic  letter 
of  the  Duke's,  addressed  to  that  king  of  the  chase  in  reply 
to  an  invitation  to  Tedworth,  where  he  often  stayed  :— 

"  APSLEY  HOUSE, 

11,  1840. 


"  MY  DEAE  SMITH,  —  I  have  received  your  note.  I  attend 
in  Parliament  four  days  in  the  week  ;  at  the  Ancient 
Mu  sick  on  Wednesdays.  There  remain  Sundays  and  Satur- 
days. Every  animal  in  the  creation  is  sometimes  allowed 
a  holida}7",  except  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  There  the  days. 
are  ;  take  any  Saturday  or  Sunday  that  you  like, 

"  I  should  certainly  like  to  have  occasionally  a  day's 
leisure  while  the  Ancient  Concerts  are  going  on,  and  the- 


THE  DUKE'S  HABITS.  307 

pressure  of  Parliamentary  business  is  so  heavy ;  but  my 
convenience,  likings  or  dislikings,  have  nothing  to  do  with 
the  matter ;  they  are  not  worth  discussing,  and  I  should 
prefer  anything  to  a  discussion  on  the  subject.  Remember 
me  most  kindly  to  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  Ever  yours  most  sincerely, 

"W." 

The  Duke  was  often  asked  by  any  host  at  whose  house 
he  might  be  staying,  to  narrate  one  of  his  battles,  and 
generally  consented  with  great  amiability  and  readiness ;  he 
would  often  become  very  animated  while  speaking,  and  the 
relation  of  these  stirring  episodes  brought  every  one  in  the 
room  round  him.  Charles  Greville  mentions  a  visit  he  paid 
at  Wilton  House,  the  Duke  being  one  of  the  guests,  and 
one  evening  when  he  had  been  prevailed  on  to  relate  the 
battle  of  Toulouse,  there  were  many  present,  and  he  was 
soon  completely  surrounded.  To  Greville's  vexation  he 
never  learnt  what  was  going  on  till  it  was  over,  for  he 
adds,  "  I  was  playing  at  whist,  and  lost  it  all !  " 

In  September,  1840,  it  was  first  remarked  that  the  Duke 
\vas  manifesting  signs  of  advancing  years,  not  only  physically, 
by  stooping  and  walking  unsteadily,  but  by  an  irritability  of 
temper  quite  new  to  him.  Every  one  he  met,  naturally 
looked  at  him,  for  all  were  interested  in  his  health  and  the 
continuance  of  his  life ;  it  was  never  a  rude  stare,  and  the 
glance  was  always  accompanied  by  a  lifted  hat.  Occa- 
sionally people  would  venture  to  address  him ;  and  to  a 
woman  who  one  day  tried  to  speak  to  him  he  said,  "  Do  me 
the  favour,  madam,  to  write  to  me,"  moving  on  quickly  to 
escape  her  further  pursuit.  However,  those  who  wrote  to 
him  latterly,  did  not  even  secure,  as  in  former  days,  an 
autograph  of  "F.  M.  the  Duke  of  Wellington,"  for  he  had 
become  too  old  to  continue  the  practice  of  inditing  and 
sending  these  answers,  and  ended  by  ordering  lithographed 
replies  to  be  returned. 


308  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

The  Duke's  moroseness  at  this  time  formed  a  striking 
contrast  to  his  former  geniality ;  and  whereas  he  had 
always  responded  with  evident  gratification  to  the  eager- 
ness of  every  one  to  consult  him  and  to  act  on  his  advice, 
in  private,  as  well  as  in  public,  matters,  he  began  to  show  a 
strange  disposition  for  solitude  and  isolation,  as  if  he  wearied 
of  intercourse  with  the  world  and  felt  its  irksomeiiess. 

It  is  humiliating  to  our  common  nature  to  note  the 
-humiliation  of  a  great  man ;  but  it  is  also  instructive,  and 
impresses  on  us  the  suggestive  fact  that  the  greatest  of  us 
is  but  human.  The  melancholy  decadence  of  the  Duke's 
grand  moral  attributes,  as  he  gradually  glided  into  what 
may  be  almost  termed  senility,  was  the  more  remarkable  as 
compared  with  the  elevation  his  character  had  attained  in 
universal  estimation ;  it  may  be  said  that  the  whole  tenor 
of  his  life,  with  its  heaped-up  and  well-merited  honours — 

"...  numerosa  parabat 
Excelsae  turns  tabulata,  uncle  altior  erat 
Casus." 

Like  the  Archbishop  of  Granada,  the  Duke  does  not  seem 
to  have  been  conscious  of  his  increasing  infirmities  (of 
which  no  Gil  Bias  ventured  to  apprize  him)  and  of  their 
effect  on  his  efficiency  for  services  which  his  fine  sense  of 
duty  still  urged  him  to  render  to  his  country;  but  it  is 
probable  that  a  vague  consciousness  of  them  caused  that 
irritability  of  temper  which  frequently  manifested  itself  in  un- 
diplomatic expressions  from  his  lips,  and  evidences  of  strong 
and  unchastened  feeling  in  his  political  correspondence- 
all  entirely  at  variance  with  the  policy  and  the  principles 
which  had  ruled  every  act  of  his  previous  life.  Besides  this 
irascibility,  the  morbid  change  in  his  tastes  and  habits 
became  as  remarkable  as  distressing. 

The  Duke's  popularity  never  was  affected  by  these 
evidences  of  age,  which,  however,  are  pretty  freely  recorded, 
even  by  his  greatest  admirers,  in  the  political  memoirs  of 


THE  DUKE'S  POPULARITY.  309 


the  time.  Wherever  he  went,  he  still  remained  in  the 
popular  mind,  "  the  conquering  hero,"  and  was  acclaimed 
as  such.  At  a  choral  meeting  of  Hullah's  at  Exeter  Hall, 
in  June,  1842,  at  which  Queen  Adelaide  was  present  (and 
was  received  with  a  hearty  recognition,  for  she  was  always 
a  favourite),  the  Duke  came  in  at  a  very  late  period  of  the 
entertainment.  His  Grace's  entry  was  the  signal  for  a 
unanimous  demonstration.  The  singers  suddenly  stopped 
in  the  middle  of  a  bar,  and  the  organ  at  once  played  "  See 
the  Conquering  Hero  Comes."  The  whole  audience  stood, 
as  the  fine,  but  now  infirm,  old  man  walked  up  to  his  seat, 
while  a  loud  peal  of  cheers,  and  a  universal  waving  of  hand- 
kerchiefs announced  to  him  the  cordiality  of  the  welcome  ; 
but  he  maintained  a  dignified  calmness,  although  all  pre- 
sent, men  as  well  as  women,  were  more  or  less  affected. 

After  the  first  break  observed  in  the  Duke's  moral  and 
physical  condition,  his  former  vigour  of  mind  seems  to  have 
returned  to  him,  at  least  for  a  time,  for  in  1843  he  took 
everybody  by  surprise  by  his  hearty  appearance,  and  by  the 
vigour  of  the  speech  he  made  early  in  the  Parliamentary 
season  on  Indian  affairs  ;  though  he  seems  to  have  wavered 
considerably  in  the  view  he  took  of  Lord  Ellenborough's 
conduct  in  the  Afghan  war.  With  this,  at  first  sight,  he 
had  expressed  himself  much  displeased,  but  after  further 
investigation,  he  changed  his  opinion,  and  declared  he 
intended  to  defend  it.  This  improved  condition  of  mind 
and  body  does  not,  however,  appear  to  have  been  permanent, 
for  by  1846  the  Duke  had  once  more  relapsed  into  a  state  of 
irritability  of  temper,  deplorable  in  so  great  a  man,  though 
not  perhaps  unusual  with  those  who  arrive  at  so  advanced 
an  age,  and  he  again  indulged  in  a  prolixity  of  words  and 
vehemence  of  expression  quite  at  variance  with  the  reticence, 
discretion,  and  self-command,  which  had  always  sustained 
the  dignity  of  his  character. 

Portraits  of  the  Duke  are  so  abundant  that  one  wonders 
at  the  benevolent  patience  with  which  he  consented  to 


310  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

sacrifice  himself  in  order  to  favour  the  majority  of  the 
artists  who  produced  them,  for  we  know  there  were  few,  if 
any,  of  these  soi-disant  "  likenesses  "  that  satisfied  him. 

As  to  the  equestrian  figure  which  so  long  disfigured  Hyde 
Park  Corner,  his  indignation  at  the  "enormous  absurdity" 
was  none  the  less  that  he  was  obliged  to  suppress  it,  but 
much  as  he  would  have  liked  to  defeat  this  "  abominable 
job,"  he  had  no  means  of  appealing  against  it ;  for,  as  he 
said,  "his  lips  were  sealed,"  and  so  it  went  through.  The 
whole  matter  was  arranged  by  Sir  F.  French,  who  planned 
the  statue,  the  locale,  and  the  place  whereon  it  was  perched, 
and  selected  Wyatt  as  the  artist.  It  was  on  the  27th  of 
June,  1838,  that  this  atrocity  was  perpetrated. 

January  7,  1840,  Haydon  had  the  honour  of  painting  his 
equestrian  portrait  of  the  Duke,  and  says  in  a  letter  to  Lord 
Melbourne : 

"  Since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  the  last  day  of 
the  Session,  I  have  spent  some  days  at  Walmer  with  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  and  I  was  highly  delighted  with  him. 

"  Nobody  need  wonder  at  his  military  success  who  hears 
him  talk,  or  reads  his  despatches.  The  sound  practical 
reasons  he  gives  for  many  of  his  proceedings  in  Spain  show 
his  sagacity  and  his  genius,  and  he  tells  a  story  better  than 
any  man  I  ever  heard,  not  excepting  Sir  Walter  Scott.  He 
gave  me  sittings  for  himself,  imagined  to  be  on  the  field  of 
Waterloo  with  Copenhagen,  twenty  years  after  the  battle." 

It  was  about  1846  that  d'Orsay's  portrait  of  the  Duke 
was  engraved  and  published.  It  seems  strange  that  he 
should  have  preferred  it  to  any  other.  It  must  be  conceded 
that,  as  his  Grace  explained,  it  represented  him,  "  for  the  first 
time,  as  a  gentleman,"  but  surely  the  fine  spirited  portrait 
of  Sir  Thomas  Laurence  is  preferable,  representing  him  as 
a  warrior.  However,  such  was  the  Duke's  own  opinion,  and 
he  declared  "  he  would  never  sit  to  any  one  again." 

D'Orsay's  portrait  of  the  Duke  is  pleasing,  and  has  a 
value  among  other  portraits,  but  would  be  very  unsatis- 


FIELD  MABSHAL  His  GRACE  THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON,  K.G. ,  &c.,  &c. 
(Painted  by  Count  d'Orsay.) 


THE  DUKE'S  POKTRAIT.  311 

factory  were  it  the  only  one  we  had  of  Wellington,  for  it 
•certainly  supplies  only  one  phase,  and  that  not  the  most 
typical,  of  his  character.  Neither  can  it  be  considered 
artistic  in  arrangement,  or  correct,  anatomically  speaking, 
and  would  never  pass  for  the  work  of  any  but  an  amateur 
—a  distinguished  amateur,  we  may  admit.  D'Orsay  took 
immense  pains  with  this  portrait  (which  I  have  already 
mentioned).  In  a  letter  addressed  to  B.  R.  Haydon  on  the 
subject  of  it,  he  writes,  in  somewhat  quaint  English  : 

"  .  .  .  I  am  very  proud  of  your  approbation  ;  I  was  tired  to 
see  the  Duke  dressed  as  a  corporal  or  a  policeman  (as  Pickers- 
gill  painted  him),  therefore  I  did  choose  the  dress  you 
approve,  as  being  very  elegant  and  exact  and  suited  for  what 
I  intended.  As  to  the  hands,  I  did  prefer  to  think  of  his 
than  Yandyk's,  as  the  characteristic  of  his  hands  are  very 
bony ;  so  much  so  that  many  of  his  friends  told  me  they 
could  recognize  his  hands  if  the  top  of  the  picture  was 
hidden. — Yours  faithfully, 

"  COUNT  D'OESAY." 

David  Wilkie,  in  a  very  interesting  letter,  in  which  he 
describes  with  picturesqueness  and  simplicity  a  visit  paid 
to  his  studio,  in  1816,  by  a  party  consisting  of  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Bedford,  Lady  Argyle,  Lord  Lynedoch,  and 
the  Duke  of  Wellington,  makes  some  noteworthy  remarks 
on  the  last-named. 

"  .  .  .  None  of  his  portraits  are  likenesses;  he  is  younger 
and  fresher,  more  active  and  lively,  and  in  his  figure  more 
clean-inade  and  firmer  built  than  I  was  led  to  expect.  His 
face  is  in  some  respects  odd ;  has  no  variety  of  expression, 
but  his  eye  is  extraordinary,  and  is  almost  the,  only  feature 
I  remember,  but  I  remember  it  so  well  that  I  think  I  see  it 
now.  It  has  not  the  hungry  and  devouring  look  of  Bona- 
parte, but  seems  to  express  in  its  liveliness,  the  ecstasy  that 
an  animal  would  express  in  an  active  and  eager  pursuit." 


312  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

All  the  Wellesley  family  were  more  or  less  musical.  As. 
to  the  Marquis  of  Wellesley,  he  was  at  home  in  all  knowledge 
and  in  all  the  fine  arts.  The  Duke  was  a  generous  and 
appreciative  patron  of  artistes,  loved  the  Ancient  and  Phil- 
harmonic concerts,  which  he  sedulously  patronized,  was  a 
constant  habitue  of  the  opera,  in  his  well-known  stall- 
always  at  the  end  of  the  row — and  received  with  the  most 
graceful  amiability,  whether  at  Apsley  House  or  at  Strath- 
fieldsaye,  the  first-class  members  of  the  musical  profession, 
Grassini,*  Pasta,  Malibran,  Persiani,  and  Grisi  won  the  Duke's 
warmest  admiration,  and  finding  that  Viardot  was  not  appre- 
ciated by  the  English  public  according  to  her  merit,  he  did 
his  utmost  to  encourage  her.  Ella  basked  in  the  ducal 
smiles  ;  Braham  revelled  in  the  sunshine  of  the  great  man's- 
cordial  approbation ;  Lablache  was  always  treated  as  a  friend ; 
and  Tamburini  was  a  frequent  and  welcome  visitor  at  Strath- 
fieldsaye  :  he  happened  to  be  staying  there,  at  the  moment 
of  the  "  Tamburini  riots." 

The  Duke  never  hesitated  to  testify  his  satisfaction  at  any 
kind  of  musical  performance  which  gave  him  pleasure,  and 
the  opportuneness  and  heartiness  of  the  applause  he  be- 
stowed, indicated  the  profoundness  of  his  knowledge  of  music 
and  the  purity  of  his  taste. 

When,  in  July,  1838,  Lord  Burghersh  produced  one  of  his 
operas  at  the  St.  James's  Theatre,  it  was  amusing  to  see  the 
frolicsome  spirit  in  which  the  Duke  took  the  lead  in  calling 
for  the  Maestro,  at  the  close  of  the  performance  ;  and  the 
more  shyly  the  noble  composer  persisted  in  remaining  hidden 
in  a  remote  corner  of  his  box,  the  more  determined  was  the 
Duke  to  have  him  out  and  get  him  on  the  stage.  Whenever 
the  calls  of  the  rest  of  the  audience  began  to  flag,  there  came 
an  immediate  reinforcement  from  the  Duke,  who  applauded 
more  vehemently  than  any  one  when  his  lordship  at  last 


*  It  was  said  that  the  Duke  and  Napoleon  were  both  enthusiastic  and  rival 
admirers  of  Madame  Grassmi. 


THE  MARQUIS  OF  DOURO. 


313 


appeared,  but  hugging  the  wing,  and  hastily  retreating  when 
bouquets  fell  at  his  feet. 

The  Duke's  death  took  place  at  Walmer  Castle  in  Sep- 
tember, 1852.  I  am  unable,  personally,  to  describe  the 
lying  in  state  and  funeral  of  the  great  hero,  as  I  was  not  in 
England  at  the  time ;  every  detail  of  this  national  event, 
however,  has  been  so  profusely  and  elaborately  published 
that  there  is  nothing  to  be  added. 

The  Marquis  of  Douro  was  an  expert  connoisseur  in  art,  The  Marquis 

of  Douro. 


"  THE  DUKE'S  "  EOOM  AT  WALMER,  WUEBE  HE  DIED. 

and  especially  in  music,  taking  great  pleasure  in  the  society 
of  accredited  professionals,  often  honouring  with  his  pre- 
sence their  private  musical  gatherings,  patronizing  their 
public  concerts,  and  showing  much  judgment  in  his  appre- 
ciation of  musical  talent. 

The  Marquis  was  in  many  ways  eccentric,  and  was 
especially  remarkable  in  his  dress,  in  which  he  affected 
something  more  than  simplicity  of  style. 

One  day,  when  thus  shabbily  attired,  he  was  wandering  in 
a  lost  kind  of  way  near  the  Marble  Arch,  when  a  club  friend, 


314  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

passing  that  way,  caught  sight  of  him,  and  accosting  him, 
asked  what  could  have  brought  him  there. 

"  Why,  the  fact  is,"  he  replied,  "I'm  looking  for  a  stationer's 
shop ;  I  used  a  capital  pen  at  a  friend's  house  the  other  day, 
and  on  inquiry,  found  it  came  from  a  place  they  called 
Hammond's,  in  the  Edgware  Road  ;  do  you  know  it  ?  ' 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  his  friend,  "  but  let  us  walk  along  the 
Eoad  ;  it  will  be  hard  if,  between  us,  we  don't  find  it." 

So  they  walked  on  till  they  reached  the  shop,  where  the 
Marquis,  having  asked  for  the  pens  in  question,  an 
assortment  was  laid  before  him.  He  was  proceeding 
to  open  a  packet,  when  the  shopman,  who  does 
not  seem  to  have  recognized  him,  or  was,  perhaps,  no 
respecter  of  persons,  informed  him  that  that  could  not  be 
allowed.  The  shopwalker,  however,  was  more  wide  awake, 
and  discovering  the  identity  of  his  customer,  told  the  man 
to  let  him  do  as  he  pleased.  Having  selected  what  he 
required,  he  drew  out  an  extraordinarily  shabby  little  purse 
to  pay  for  his  purchase  ;  it  was,  in  fact,  so  dilapidated  that 
other  customers  standing  by,  could  not  help  noticing  its 
condition :  so  dirty  was  it  that  few  people  would  have 
picked  it  up  in  the  street,  and  certainly  would  not  have 
expected  to  find  it  contained  anything ;  nor  did  it,  beyond  a 
shilling  or  two  mixed  up  with  coppers. 

Whether  it  was  such  eccentricities  as  these  or  some  other 
cause  that  irritated  the  Duke,  we  know  not,  but  there  must 
have  been  some  cause  for  his  disapproval,  of  which  he  made 
no  secret. 

One  day,  Lord  Macaulay,  seeing  among  a  number  of 
caricatures  on  his  Grace's  table,  several  of  himself,  asked 
him  if  he  did  not  object  to  them. 

"  Xo,"  said  the  Duke,  looking  in  a  special  direction,  "that's 
the  only  caricature  I  object  to." 

It  was  said  that  the  Marquis  made  a  point  of  collecting  all 
the  cartoons  and  even  caricatures  of  his  father  as  they  came 
out,  and  enjoyed  the  fun  of  showing  them  to  his  friends. 


THE  DUKE  AND  NAPOLEON.  315 

When  speaking  of  the  Marquis's  eccentricities,  it  seems 
only  fair  to  recall  the  fact  that  he  had  many  fine  qualities, 
but,  as  is  too  often  the  case  with  the  sons  of  celebrated 
fathers,  if  these  attributes  were  overlooked,  it  was  probably 
that  too  much  was  expected  of  him  as  the  son  of  such  a 
father.  However  "  odious  "  comparisons  may  be,  the  human 
mind  persists  in  instituting  them,  and  a  man  needed  broad 
shoulders  indeed,  to  carry  the  title  of  second  Duke  of 
Wellington ! 

Nevertheless,  the  second  Duke  had  warm  friends  and 
admirers,  and  foremost,  perhaps,  among  them  was  the  late 
Lord  Houghton.  It  used  to  be  said  that  there  was  unusual 
stiffness  in  the  relations  between  the  Duke  and  his  children. 
His  instincts  were,  however,  essentially  military,  and  if  he 
treated  them  more  like  subordinates  than  sons,  allowance 
must  be  made  for  his  notions  on  discipline,  which  from  long 
habit  and  professional  necessity,  had  become  part  of  his 
nature. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  worth  mentioning  perhaps  here, 
that  the  great  Duke  and  Napoleon  never  saw  each  other. 
The  nearest  approach  to  a  meeting  was  when  Napoleon  was 
at  Quatre-Bras,  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  spot  where 
his  illustrious  adversary  was  then  stationed.  It  should  be 
said  that  the  Duke  always  did  full  justice  to  Napoleon's 
military  genius,  which  he  pronounced  transcendent.  I  have 
seen  two  very  graphic  accounts  of  the  closing  struggle  of  the 
battle  of  Waterloo,  when,  for  a  moment,  there  was  actually 
a  doubt  as  to  which  of  the  two  forces  would  carry  the  day, 
and  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  the  influence  which 
turned  the  scale  at  this  critical  moment  was  the  prestige  of 
the  Duke's  splendid  generalship.  A  word  from  his  lips,  even 
a  glance  from  his  eye,  was  enough  to  reanimate  flagging 
courage,  to  inspire  confidence,  and  restore  enthusiasm,  and 
thus  to  insure  the  success  of  any  movement,  however 
desperate,  which  he  might  command. 

One  of  the  accounts  I  speak  of — and  both  narrate  the  same 


316  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

incidents — was  written  by  a  German, — Gneissen,  the  other  by 
the  Spanish  General  Alava,  both  eye-witnesses  of  the  stirring 
scene  they  describe,  and  both  most  appreciative  admirers  of 
the  Duke's  heroic  courage  and  calm  intrepidity.  The  farm 
of  La  Belle  Alliance — albeit  a  miserable  hut — became  a 
remarkable  spot  on  the  field  of  that  memorable  engagement. 
There  it  was  that  Napoleon  watched  the  battle,  and  thence 
that  he  gave  his  orders  to  the  guards.  Under  its  roof  he 
gloated  over  his  conviction  of  a  victorious  issue,  and  there 
also  was  it  that  he  first  faced  the  fact  of  his  defeat  and  ruin. 
In  this  farm-house — hardly  vacated  by  the  French  usurper 


LA  BELLE  ALLIANCE. 

— took  place  the  meeting  of  Wellington  and  Blucher,  when 
they  saluted  each  other  as  victors,  and  it  was  in  memory 
of  this  most  interesting  incident  that,  by  the  mutual  consent- 
of  these  great  Generals,  it  obtained  the  name  of  La  Belle 
Alliance. 

Alava's  simple  narrative  pictures  the  Duke  as  first  rallying 
the  Brunswickers  whose  ranks  had  been  completely  shattered 
by  the  French  Guards,  but  who  at  the  sound  of  his  voice,  at 
once  pulled  themselves  together  and  rushed  on  the  foe- 
Wellington  then  turned  his  attention  to  the  British  Foot 
Guards,  heading  them,  and  directing  their  movements  with 


THE  DUKE  AT  WATERLOO.  317 


his  hat ;  the  writer  describes  the  effect  of  this  fearless 
attitude  as  calling  from  the  men  at  once  a  loud  and 
general  hurrah,  with  which  they  went  forward  at  the  charge 
of  the  bayonet,  and  came  to  close  action  with  the  Imperial 
Guard — these  at  once  retreated,  almost  without  resistance, 
and  speedily  took  to  flight.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  most  com- 
plete rout  that  ever  occurred  in  the  history  of  battles ;  even 
that  at  Yittoria  could  not  be  compared  with  the  stampede 
that  followed  and  decided  the  day. 

General  Alava  states  that  when  the  fighting  ceased,  it  was 
found  that,  of  the  whole  group  of  which  they  formed  part, 
he  and  the  Duke  alone,  were  left  standing ;  the  rest  were  all 
either  killed  or  wounded,  while  both  they  and  their  horses 
remained  absolutely  scathless. 

"The  Duke,"  he  writes,  "looked  down  upon  the  field, 
and  when  he  saw  so  many  valued  friends  and  faithful  com- 
panions, so  many  brave  and  gallant  men  stretched  motionless 
around  him,  tears  of  emotion  started  to  his  eyes  and  stole 
down  his  noble  face." 

Napoleon's  carriage  *  had  stood  on  the  field,  and  when  he 
quitted  it  somewhat  precipitately,  to  mount  his  horse,  he  left 
his  sword  and  hat  within  it ;  it  was  immediately  taken  by 
the  English  along  with  two  guns. 

If  I  call  into  these  pages  my  recollections  of  a  truly 
typical  British-Indian  officer  of  the  soldier-civilian  class,  R.E..C.B. 
John  Eeid  Becher,  E.E.,  C.B.,  it  is  not  because  we  were 
children  together  and  he  remains,  therefore,  associated 
with  the  little  joys  and  sorrows  of  my  early  days;  not 
because  on  his  return  from  his  active  and  brilliant  career 
in  India  (where  he  became  one  of  Henry  and  John  Law- 
rence's glorious  Punjaub  Staff),  he  was,  till  his  lamented 
death,  my  guide,  my  counsellor,  and  friend;  nor  yet  be- 
cause, albeit  unconsciously,  he  exercised  a  mysterious 

*  Napoleon's  carriage  was  a  curious  and  characteristic  meuble,  elaborately  fitted 
up  under  his  own  instructions,  and  supplied  with  every  article  he  could  possibly 
require.  It  was  exhibited  in  London  some  years  ago. 


318 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


fascination  over  every  one,  of  whatever  age,  rank,  or  class, 
who  approached  him ;  but  because  his  career  forms  part  of 
a  very  interesting  epoch  in  the  history  of  British  India,  and 
in  his  public  capacity  he  shines  as  a  luminary — obscured 
solely  by  his  own  modesty — to  show  to  those  to  come  after 
him  what  should  be  the  noble  ambition  of  a  conscientious 
mind ;  John  Becher  was  nothing  if  not  conscientious,  and 


GENERAL  JOHN  EEID  BECHER,  E.E.,  C.B. 
(One    of  Sir   Henry    Lawrence's    Old    Punjaiib    Stafl.) 

his  lofty  conception  of  duty  made  that  conscientiousness 
subservient  to  everything  but  his  honour.  His  career  was 
an  apt  illustration  of  Buskin's  remark  that  "  the  nobleness 
of  life  depends  on  its  consistency,  clearness  of  purpose,  and 
quiet  and  ceaseless  energy."  From  the  age  of  sixteen,  when 
he  left  Addiscombe,  his  energies  were  unreservedly  devoted 
to  his  country's  sendee,  and  his  name,  as  well  as  those  of 


GENERAL  J.  E.  BECHER. 


several  brothers,    will  be  found  largely  intermingled  with 
the  history  of  British  India. 

Adored  by  his  subordinates,  loved  by  his  equals,  because, 
as  Colonel  Yule  has  said,  "  no  one  could  help  loving  him,"" 
trusted  by  his  superiors  in  command,  John  Becher,  always- 
true  as  steel,  passed  a  life  of  laborious  and  ungrudging  work, 
unobtrusive,  disinterested,  and  helpful  to  the  last. 

Following  in  the  steps  of  his  "  most  approved  master  and 
friend"  as  he  loved  to  style  Sir  Henry  Lawrence,  he  acted 
in  all  things  as  if  he  sought  no  more  than  to  win  that  grand 
but  brief  and  pathetic  epitaph  which  Sir  Henry  so  nobly 
dictated  for  his  own  tomb  : — 

"  HERE  LIES  HENRY  LAWRENCE, 
WHO  TRIED  TO  DO  HIS  DUTY." 

Alas !  for  those  who  prized  him,  John  Becher  (like  him 
whose  virtues  he  emulated),  more  than  "tried  to  do  his; 
and  regardless  of  all  but  the  work  before  him,  literally 
sacrificed  a  life,  the  value  of  which  could  be  estimated  by 
those  alone  who  knew  what  he  was.  His  epitaph  might 
have  been — 

"  THIS  WAS  A  MAN," 

and  the  lantern  of  Diogenes  might  have  been  broken  on  his 
grave. 

To  have  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  his  friendship,  I,  and 
many  others,  appreciated  as  one  of  the  compensations  of 
life ;  to  have  survived  it,  as  one  of  its  hardest  trials.  His 
was  a  noble  heart,  according  with  a  naif  earnestness,  and  Rr 
simplicity  absolutely  touching,  all  praise  and  all  merit  to 
companions  and  rivals,  and  never  seeming  to  recognize  that 
either  the  one  or  the  other  was  due  to  himself. 

Duty  was  the  watchword  of  his  brave  and  magnanimous 
career,  and  that  he  pursued  his  work  with  loving  earnestness, 
because  it  was  a  matter  of  duty,  is  revealed  in  John 
Lawrence's  fivquent  recommendations  to  him  (such  as  he 


320  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

was  never  known  to  address  to  any  other  subaltern) — "  Don't 
work  too  hard."  The  value  of  such  words  in  the  month  of 
Lord  Lawrence,  is  better  understood  when  we  read  Sir 
Herbert  Edwardes's  appreciation  of  the  severity  of  the 
Governor- General's  character. 

"  We  all  think  it  a  defect,"  he  says,  "  in  John  Lawrence, 
that  he  praises  no  one  ;  but  I  acquit  him  of  all  mean  and 
selfish  motive  in  it :  ...  it  is  a  principle  of  his  not  to 
praise  public  servants  lest  it  should  '  put  wind  in  their 
heads.'  " 

Sir  Henry  Lawrence  writing  to  Sir  John  Kaye,  «eays  :  — 
"  I  was  very  fortunate  in  my  assistants,  all  of  whom  were 
my  friends :  they  are  men  such  as  you  will  seldom  see  amj- 
where ;  but,  collected  under  one  administration,  they  were 
worth  double  and  treble  the  number,  taken  at  haphazard. 
Each  was  a  good  man  and  an  excellent  officer." 

Henry  Lawrence's  original  Punjaub  staff  consisted  of 
•"  James  Abbott,  John  Reid  Becher,  L.  Bowring,  Arthur 
Cocks,  Edward  Lake,  George  Lawrence,  Harry  Lumsden, 
George  McGregor,  John  Nicholson,  Eeynell  Taylor.  All 
rare  men  who  have  done  great  deeds  for  India's  good,  and 
whose  names  will  live  in  history — a  noble  brotherhood." 

Lord  Lawrence  well  knew  the  value  of  such  an  auxiliary  as 
Becher,  and  so  knew  Sir  Henry,  one  of  whose  most  valuable 
attributes  as  an  officer  was  his  discrimination  in  recognizing 
merit,  and  his  habit  of  rewarding  it  as  soon  as  possible  : 
they  and  Becher  were  on  terms  of  close  intimacy,  and  even 
after  the  distinguished  brothers  had  unhappily  parted  never 
to  meet  again,  standing  proudly  aloof  from  each  other, 
"Like  cliffs  that  have  been  rent  in  sunder,"  John  Becher 
continued,  till  their  respective  deaths,  the  dearly  prized 
friend  of  both. 

The  prestige  of  that  splendid  "Punjaub  Staff"  of  which 
John  Becher  was  one  of  the  foremost,  was  as  well  merited 
as  universally  recognized,  and  there  was  not  one  of  these, 
any  more  than  of  the  rest  of  his  brother-officers,  but  felt 


GENERAL   BECKER'S   EARLY   PROMISE.  821 

drawn  towards  him,  and  spoke  of  him  in  the  most  enthu- 
siastic terms. 

"  He  was  from  boyhood,"  wrote  Colonel  Yule  in  a  bio- 
graphical memoir  drawn  up  with  a  loving  hand,  "the  most 
winning  of  mankind ;  few  were  aware  what  an  accomplished 
linguist,  and  what  a  clever  artist  he  was ;  but  he  possessed 
gifts  far  more  rare,  and  even  as  a  cadet  at  Addiscombe,  and 
as  a  '  local  and  temporary  ensign '  (!)  there  was  in  him  a 
gaiety,  a  brilliancy,  a  play  of  fancy  in  his  conversation, 
which  attracted  men  and  women  equally,  and  which  in  com- 
bination with  his  bright,  chivalrous  aspect,  his  open  blue 
eye,  and  silken  curls  of  ruddy  gold,  have  left  on  me  an 
impression  of  Becher  as  he  was  in  his  youth,  absolutely 
unique  of  its  kind ;  whilst  the  charm  of  his  society  and  his 
sweet  nature  only  grew  with  time,  and  the  old  impression 
constantly  recurred  during  our  too  rare  meetings  in  his  later 
years." 

Major-General  Collinson,  writing  of  this  brave  and  devoted 
officer  after  his  lamented  death,  says  in  a  private  letter  :— 

"  My  intimate  knowledge  of  Becher  was,  as  you  know, 
confined  to  those  early  days,  but  I  feel  I  knew  him  as  well 
as  if  we  had  been  together  all  our  lives.  I  believe  the  real 
character  of  a  man  comes  out  in  his  youth,  though  we  do 
not  perceive  it  at  the  time,  or  perhaps  he  and  I  understood 
each  other  better  than  is  usual. 

"  But  every  one  of  his  contemporaries  at  Chatham  ad- 
mired and  respected  John  Becher.  His  lively  spirit,  his 
frank  and  genial  nature,  his  simple,  open  character,  and 
unalterable  good  temper  ;  his  great  intelligence  and  imagina- 
tion, and  his  thoroughly^  innocent  and  gentlemanly  ways 
made  every  one  of  us,  of  whatever  character,  wish  to  be  his 
friend  and  companion.  Not  one  who  was  there  would  ever 
cease  to  remember  with  delight,  his  lithesome  figure  and 
bright,  expressive  face  crowned  with  his  golden  hair.  .  .  . 

"  When  we  perpetrated  the  enormity  of  getting  up  a  series 
of  plays  in  the  absence  of  our  guide  and  ruler,  I  believe  it 

VOL.  i.  22 


322  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

was  the  winning  character  as  well  as  the  clever  performance 
of  our  two  leading  artistes — Becher  and  Tylden — that 
softened  the  practical  heart  of  Pasley  when  the  misde- 
meanour was  reported  to  him." 

It  would  be  beyond  the  limits  of  a  general  record  to  give 
in  detail,  even  such  particulars  as  I  possess  of  John  Becher's. 
laborious  but  brilliant  career.  His  biography,  as  sketched 
by  the  picturesque  and  masterly  pen  of  his  friend  and 
brother- officer,  the  accomplished  Colonel  Sir  Henry  Yule,, 
forms  a  most  interesting  episode  in  Anglo-Indian  history, 
besides  revealing  to  us  a  character  the  nobleness  of  which 
calls  for  our  admiration  at  every  paragraph. 

The  wound  which  John  Becher  received  in  the  mouth,  at 
Sobraon — the  glorious  scar  of  which  he  carried  to  the  grave 
— was  perhaps  the  least  serious  injury  he  incurred  through 
his  devotedness  to  the  work  he  had  undertaken.  The  years, 
of  active  occupation  he  passed  under  the  two  Lawrences,, 
during  which  he  rendered  to  his  country  services  such  as 
continually  obtained  honourable  mention  in  the  despatches,, 
began  to  tell  so  severely  on  his  constitution  that  he  really 
became  unfit  for  the  labour  to  which  he  however  still  clung,, 
working  on,  not  only  uncomplainingly,  but  so  cheerfully  as 
to  deceive  those  about  him  as  to  the  declining  state  of  his. 
health. 

His  brother — the  late  Sir  ArthurBecher,B.A.,K.C.B.,  him- 
self another  hero — told  me  that  he  protracted  his  daily  work 
to  so  late  an  hour  that  when  he  ceased,  he  was  quite  unfit  to 
enjoy  in  social  intercourse  the  short  period  that  remained  of 
the  evening,  until  he  had  taken  a  small  dose  of  opium,  after 
which  he  started  like  a  new  man.  This,  of  course,  meant, 
utter  destruction,  and  at  last  he  was  compelled  to  give  in. 
Nevertheless,  so  valuable  had  been  his  twenty  years'  service- 
in  the  Punjaub,  that  Sir  Eobert  Montgomery  attributed 
to  it  (speaking  of  him  as  "dear  John  Becher"),  u  the 
peace  of  that  important  district  and  the  loyalty  of  the 
Chiefs  in  1857,"  he  having  been  the  district  officer  there; 


SIR   H.   LAWRENCE'S  PUNJAUB   STAFF.  323 

from  1853.  Even  at  this  time  his  health  had  been  seriously 
affected  by  the  close  and  undeviating  attention  demanded 
by  this  arduous  and  responsible  position,  and  when  he  con- 
sented to  assume  the  district  duties,  he  felt  discouraged  by 
the  faint  prospect  he  saw  of  his  being  able  to  discharge 
them  with  any  degree  of  satisfaction.  He  was  to  succeed 
the  able,  experienced,  and  popular  General  James  Abbott, 
who  was  literally  worshipped  at  Hazara ;  at  the  same  time, 
Becher,  on  his  part,  was  leaving  a  people  he  had  attached 
to  himself  so  tenderly,  that  when  he  moved  from  Battala 
to  take  up  his  residence  at  Hazara,  they  followed  him  out 
of  the  town  in  crowds,  weeping,  clinging  to  him,  and  invok- 
ing blessings  on  his  head.  He  told  me  he  was  altogether 
unmanned  on  this  trying  occasion,  and  hardly  knew  how  he 
tore  himself  away. 

Mr.  Raikes  has  written — "Becher  was  the  first  specimen 
of  Henry  Lawrence's  'old  staff'  in  the  Punjaub  that  I  came 
across,  and  I  looked  at  him  and  his  work  with  curiosity, 
wonder,  and  admiration,  a  noble  specimen  of  India's  hard- 
working administrators  and  dauntless  soldiers,  entirely 
devoted  to  the  service  of  the  people,  going  in  and  out 
among  them  from  morning  till  night,  while  these  crowded 
their  quarters  and  gave  them  no  respite." 

When  we  read  in  a  letter  of  Sir  E.  Pollock's,  that, 
11  Work,  varying  only  in  kind,  seemed  to  occupy  twenty 
hours  out  of  the  twenty-four  of  Becher 's  day,"  we  are 
scarcely  surprised  he  should  add,  "  it  seemed  strange  to  me 
how  any  mortal  being  could  so  completely  sacrifice  himself." 
This  officer  goes  on  :  "  He  hardly  paused  to  eat  or  sleep,  and 
yet  whenever  he  could  extricate  himself  from  his  official 
surroundings,  he  talked  as  few  men  could  talk,  and  was 
better  company  and  better  informed  on  general  subjects  than 
most  men." 

"His  house  at  Dera,"  he  continues,  "like  his  house  at 
Peshawar,  indicated  his  life  ;  there  were  books  and  papers, 
notes  and  abstracts,  maps  and  sketches  (English  and  native) 


324 


GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUKY. 


all  over  the  place.  I  never  saw  such  voluminous  notes  nor 
better ;  his  patience  was  inexhaustible,  and  it  need  hardly 
be  added  that  his  arrears  were  heavy  (!)  life  being  really  too 
short  for  the  sort  of  inquiry  he  conscientiously  considered 
indispensable  in  each  case. 

"  As  for  the  people  at  Hazara,  General  Abbott  had  petted 
them  to  such  an  extent  that  he  was  known  among  them 
only  as  '  Baba  Abbott,'  and  during  his  rule,  which  extended 


GENERAL  JAS.  ABBOTT,  R.A.,  C.B. 

from  1849  to  1853,  exiles  driven  out  by  the  Sikhs,  twenty, 
thirty,  forty  years  before,  had  flocked  back  to  Hazara  where 
his  work  has  literally  immortalized  him,  and  the  district 
had  passed  from  howling  desolation  to  smiling  prosperity ; 
moreover  he  spent  all  his  substance  on  them ;  and  to  his 
glory  be  it  said,  he  left  Hazara  with  only  his  month's  pay 
in  his  pocket. 

"  Well  may  Sir  Herbert  Edwardes  have  written,  '  The 


BECKER'S  SERVICES  DURING  THE   MUTINY.        325 

story  of  Abbott  in  Hazara  is  one  which  no  Anglo-Indian,  no 
Englishman  surely,  can  read  without  a  glow  of  pride.' 

"  He  also  relates  that  Abbott's  last  act  before  leaving  the 
district  was  to  invite  the  country,  not  the  neighbours  but  all 
Hazara,  to  a  farewell  feast  on  the  Nara  Hill ;  and  there  for 
three  days  and  nights  he  might  be  seen  walking  about 
among  the  groups  of  guests  and  hecatombs  of  pots  and 
cauldrons — the  kind  and  courteous  host  of  a  whole  people." 

Sir  Henry  Lawrence  describes  "  Major  James  Abbott  "  (as 
he  then  was)  as  "  of  the  stuff  of  the  true  knight- errant ; 
gentle  as  a  girl,  in  thought,  word,  or  deed ;  overflowing  with 
warm  affections,  and  ready  at  all  times  to  sacrifice  himself 
for  his  country  or  his  friend  :  he  is  at  the  same  time  a  brave, 
scientific,  and  energetic  soldier,  with  peculiar  power  of 
attaching  others,  especially  Asiatics,  to  his  person." 

Edwardes  was  to  have  been  the  successor  of  the  "chival- 
rous and  benevolent  James  Abbott  "  (after  whom  the  town 
of  Abbottabad  is  named) ;  but  on  the  murder  of  Colonel 
Mackeson,  Becher  was  appointed  by  Lord  Dalhousie,  and 
not  long  after,  Edwardes  was  able  to  write,  "  John  Becher  is 
Abbott's  successor,  and  is  to  Hazara  all  that  Abbott  was  " 
—high  praise  indeed  ! — "His  cutcherry  is  not  from  ten  to 
four  by  the  regulation  clock,  but  all  day  and  night  and  at 
any  hour  that  anybody  chooses." 

In  1857  during  the  terrible  Mutiny,  Becher's  promptitude, 
intelligence,  and  energy  were  of  the  greatest  value  in  check- 
ing its  progress.  When  the  Murree  mutineers  made  a 
desperate  attempt  to  escape  to  Cashmere,  to  obtain  the 
support  of  the  Maharajah,  they  had  to  pass  through  Hazara. 
John  Becher,  in  authority  there,  as  Deputy-Commissioner, 
laid  his  plans  with  consummate  tact  to  intercept  their 
progress,  ordering  all  the  passes  to  be  occupied  so  that  they 
were  obliged  to  retrace  their  steps  and  enter  Kohistan. 
Becher's  instructions  to  the  mountaineers  being  faith- 
fully followed,  the  rebels  were  all  taken  and  suffered  the 
death  awarded  to  mutineers.  Becher's  conduct  of  matters 


326  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

was  remarkable,  and  earned  "  high  recommendation  from 
those  under  whom  he  served ;  when  honours  came  to  be 
distributed,  he  received  a  brevet  promotion  and  a  C.B." 
After  holding  this  appointment  with  honour  for  six  years, 
Becher  was  sent  to  succeed  Colonel  James,  deceased,  in  the 
commissionership  of  Peshawur,  where  he  managed,  though 
with  broken  health  and  struggling  manfully  against  nature, 
to  bear,  during  two  years,  the  burden  of  this  charge  which 
was  full  of  intricate  political  difficulties,  but  in  1866  he  had 
no  choice  but  to  abandon  for  ever  the  land  in  which,  as  Sir 
Herbert  wrote,  "  He  had  compressed  the  work  of  a  long  and 
laborious  life  into  a  comparatively  few  years." 

When  at  home  in  England,  and  of  necessity  leading  a 
very  retired  life,  he  was  eagerly  sought  out  by  Mr.  Bosworth 
Smith,  whom  he  was  able  materially  to  assist  in  his  com- 
pilation of  the  Life  of  Lord  Lawrence.  This  writer  has 
remarked  of  him,  "  Of  all  the  Indian  celebrities  with  whom 
I  have  conversed,  he  was  perhaps  the  most  delightful,  and  I 
do  not  think  I  ever  found  more  pleasure  in  the  conversation 
of  any  one.  He  was  much  more  intellectual  than  most 
Anglo-Indians,  and  he  also  had  very  delicate  feelings,  keen 
sympathies,  and  a  strong  touch  of  humour."  His  con- 
versation was  very  suggestive,  and  his  "  knowledge  most 
versatile."  Sir  W.  Boxall,  E.A.,  was  one  day  taken  by 
surprise  at  the  aptness  of  some  remarks  he  had  heard  him 
make  on  the  characteristics  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  school. 

The  fact  is,  that  he  possessed,  without  even  seeming  aware 
of  it,  an  irresistible  power  of  attraction,  to  which  all  who 
knew  him  infallibly  yielded,  no  matter  to  what  class  they 
might  belong. 

Though  he  remained  in  feeble  health  from  the  time  of  his 
final  retirement  till  his  death  in  1884,  he  was  still  always 
the  most  charming  and  refined  of  companions.  The  scope 
of  his  knowledge,  which  comprised  several  languages,  music, 
art,  literature,  seemed  to  extend  far  beyond  his  own  con- 
sciousness of  its  depth  and  variety.  His  perceptions  were 


HIS   MORAL   AND  INTELLECTUAL   QUALIFICATIONS.  327 

singularly  quick  and  his  judgment  (though  he  always  took 
time  to  deliberate  before  pronouncing  it)  as  singularly  acute, 
while  his  taste  was  refined  and  his  intelligence  far-seeing ; 
there  was  something  absolutely  touching  in  his  complete 
unconsciousness  of  his  own  worth,  yet  his  thoughts  were  so 
upright  and  his  mode  of  expression  so  limpid,  that  in  all 
dealings  with  him  one  felt  oneself  in  an  atmosphere  of 
sincerity.  His  literary  criticisms,  while  altogether  unpre- 
tending, were  remarkably  just  and  shrewd  ;  by  reading  the 
same  books  simultaneously,  and  comparing  impressions,  I 
was  surprised  to  note — whether  as  applied  to  historical, 
biographical,  philosophical,  or  imaginative  works — the 
subtlety  and  aptitude  of  his  comments,  manifesting  fertility 
of  imagination,  soundness  of  judgment,  variety  of  know- 
ledge, and  originality  of  thought — indeed,  his  appreciation  of 
all  works  of  art,  showed  independent  opinion,  pure  taste, 
and  sound  discrimination. 

A  valuable  acquisition  he  seemed  unconsciously  to  possess, 
was  the  power,  whether  in  conversation  or  correspondence, 
of  condensing  his  thoughts,  thus  saying  all  he  meant  in  a 
few  words  with  no  climunition  of  force  in  the  argument. 

The  following  stanzas,  never  intended  for  publication,  are 
perhaps  worth  quoting  for  the  noble  and  simple  spirit  in 
which  they  are  written,  also  for  the  eloquent  testimony  they 
bear  to  the  writer's  affectionate  admiration  for  the  subject 
of  them. 

"  CHAMBERLAIN. 

"  Honoured  by  England — in  bis  grave — 

In  tbe  old  Abbey  wbere  she  keeps 
Tbe  memory  of  tbe  great  and  brave, 
Tbe  lion-bearted  Outram  sleeps. 


Tbe  deathless  chaplet  of  his  fame 
Still  blossoms  in  remembered  deed, 

But  vainly  we  invoke  his  name, 
He  may  not  answer  to  our  need  ! 


328  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

And  India  looks  around  to  call 

Another  champion  to  her  side, 
Whose  crest  gleams  in  the  front  of  all ; 

To  whom  may  she  her  sword  confide  ? 

Noble,  compassionate,  and  just, 

Knight  without  fear  and  without  stain  ; 
A  foe,  to  dread  ;  a  friend,  to  trust — 

Eide  forth,  SIR  NEVILLE  CHAMBERLAIN  !  " 

*  t 

I  have  known  more  than  one  honest  fellow  with 
deplorable  antecedents,  who  has  told  me  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  that  he  owed  all  the  good  there  was  in  him  to  the 
"  dear  General,"  and,  added  one,  naively,  "  a  monarch  was  he 
among  men ;  "for  myself,  I  am  quite  sure  110  one  could  know 
John  Becher  without  becoming  a  better  man ;  humbly  as  he 
bore  himself,  so  noble  and  lofty  were  his  principles,  they 
seemed  to  communicate  themselves  irresistibly  to  those  who 
came  in  contact  with  him. 

If  it  be  true  that  "  the  evil  that  men  do  lives  after 
them,"  so  assuredly  does  the  good. 

"  True  glory  is  to  be  acquired  by  writing  what  deserves 
to  be  written,  or  doing  what  deserves  to  be  written  of,  and 
making  the  world  better  and  happier  for  our  having  lived 
in  it." 

GeneraiJas.  General  James  Abbott,  K.A.,  whom  I  have  already  men- 
E.A.,  Cloned,  we]}  known  to  Anglo-Indians  as  one  of  the  finest, 
bravest,  and  most  self-sacrificing  of  British  officers,  is  still 
among  us,  and  it  is  an  enviable  privilege  to  be  one  of  those 
who  enjoy  the  friendship  of  this  distinguished  veteran  :  one, 
moreover,  of  a  family  of  heroes — and  whose  conscientious 
devotedness  to  duty  has  raised  him  to  an  eminence  which 
his  surviving  brother-officers  are  unanimous  in  recognizing. 
It  is  for  history  to  relate  the  detail  of  his  labours  and  his 
successes  ;  and  for  the  nation  for  whose  glory  he  fought,  to 
acknowledge  how  zealously,  how  bravely,  and  how  faithfully 
he  gave  himself  to  his  share  of  the  long  and  trying  struggles- 
of  the  British  in  India  ;  nor  should  it  be  forgotten  with  what 


GENERAL   JAMES   ABBOTT,  E.A.,   K.C.B.  329 

untiring  patience  and  what  opportune  judgment  he  conducted 
the  difficult  and  delicate  missions  committed  to  his  intelli- 
gent care.  Kegardless  of  his  personal  interests,  General 
Abbott,  it  is  now  well  known,  never  hesitated  to  generously 
and  ungrudgingly  employ  his  private  means,  as  well  as  his 
personal  energies,  in  the  cause  of  duty,  whenever  he  found 
himself  called  upon  by  the  exigence  of  circumstances. 

It  would  be  impossible  here  to  enumerate  the  services 
rendered  throughout  such  a  life,  and  during  such  a  period  as 
that  he  spent  in  the  East ;  but  it  is,  I  think,  justifiable  to 
call  attention  to  a  wrong  which  was  (perhaps  inevitably) 
done  to  him  by  an  oversight  deeply  to  be  deplored. 

Abbott  was  sent  by  Major  Todd  in  1839  from  Herat  to 
Khiva,  to  try  to  organize  the  release  of  the  Russian  prisoners- 
at  that  place.  It  was  an  arduous  and  harassing  mission, 
and  its  fatigues  and  perplexities  were  enhanced  by  the 
temporary  failure  of  his  purpose.  He  had,  however,  con- 
ducted the  cause  with  so  much  skill  as  to  pave  the  way  for 
subsequent  negotiations,  and  when  Colonel  Shakespear,  R.A. 
was  despatched  in  1842  to  complete  the  arrangements,  he 
found  the  work  done  and  had  only  to  walk  over  the  ground  ; 
the  prisoners  were  at  once  released  and  lie  became  Sir 
Richmond  Shakespear,  K.C.B. — Hos  ego  versiculos  fed, 
tulit  alter  honor es !  I  have  heard  great  dissatisfaction 
expressed  by  General  Abbott's  friends  at  the  inadequacy 
of  the  distinctions  bestowed  on  him  in  recognition  of  his 
gallantry  and  his  indefatigable  services ;  as  for  himself,  dis- 
interestedness has  always  been  one  of  his  distinguishing 
characteristics,  and  never  more  manifestly  so  than  in  the 
contented  attitude  of  his  retirement  from  public  duty. 

General  Abbott's  wounds  and  his  snow-white  hair  entitled 
him  to  his  retreat  from  active  occupation  long  before  he 
availed  himself  of  these  undeniable  reasons.  His  chief 
occupation  in  private  life  has  been  the  training  and  educa- 
tion of  an  only  son,  who  will  no  doubt  be  true  to  his  tradi- 
tions, and  prove  himself  the  worthy  scion  of  such  a  stock. 


330  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

General  Abbott's  poetical  tastes  and  literary  abilities  have 
led  to  his  publishing  several  works  which,  while  giving  to 
his  life  a  new  interest,  are  read  with  pleasure  and  profit  as 
well  by  the  public  as  by  his  friends.  His  verse  is  not  mere 
rhyme,  it  is  powerfully  imaginative  and  exhibits  great  play 
of  fancy,  while  in  his  picturesque  descriptions  we  trace  the 
inspiration  of  a  poetical  mind. 

Colonel  sir  H.  Of  Colonel  Yule,  E.E.,  another  of  these  Indian  heroes 
K!C?B.  '  and  a  distinguished  scholar  (who  had  not  his  equal  for  pro- 
found and  intimate  knowledge  of  the  East,  its  populations,  its 
cities,  its  history,  its  customs,  its  languages),  it  is  sad  to  have 
to  speak  in  the  past  tense.  His  was  indeed  a  valuable  life, 
closed  all  too  soon  for  his  country's  glory  and  his  country's 
cultivation.  Conscientious  perhaps  to  a  fault,  no  one  ever 
knew  him  without  profoundly  admiring  and  esteeming  him. 
A  tardy  recognition  was  (to  all  appearance,  grudgingly)  be- 
stowed on  this  indefatigable  servant  of  his  country,  just  before 
the  close  of  his  arduous  career,  as  if  to  court  the  contempt  of 
his  friends  and  his  just  admirers,  for  the  ridiculous  misapplica- 
tion with  which  so-called  "  honours  "  are  dispensed.  Whose 
services  throughout  the  land  could  deserve  distinction  if 
Yule's  did  not  ?  Put  this  question  to  any  man  of  arms  and 
to  any  man  of  letters  who  may  think  it  worth  answering  ; 
indeed  it  seems  to  have  answered  itself,  by  the  fact  that 
this  remarkable  man's  friends  and  admirers  virtually  refuse 
to  ratify  the  almost  posthumous  recognition,  deeming  that 
no  adventitious  adjunct  is  needed  to  illustrate  such  a  name 
as  that  of  Colonel  Henry  Yule,  who  will  probably  go  down 
to  posterity  distinguished  by  his  military  rank  alone. 

It  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  myself,  to  be  able,  by  supply- 
ing particulars  of  General  John  Becher's  earlier  years,  to 
lend  Colonel  Yule  a  helping  hand  when  he  was  compiling  his 
graceful  memoir  of  that  brother-officer ;  graceful,  as  every 
emanation  from  that  versatile  pen — a  poem  in  prose  :  for  he 
had  known  intus  et  in  cute  the  military  prowess  of  the  sub- 
ject of  those  most  interesting  pages  which  carry  on  them 


COLONEL    SIR  HENRY  YULE,   R.E.,  KC.B.  331 

the  impress  of  his  affection.  Who  is  there  left  to  record 
with  as  faithful  and  touching  a  tenderness  the  life  of  him 
who  so  readily  and  so  ably  rendered  this  service  to  many  of 
the  gathered  heroes  who  were  his  reciprocally-esteemed 
brother-officers  ? 

I  have  heard  a  characteristic  anecdote  of  Colonel  Yule, 
aptly  illustrative  of  his  sensitive  conscientiousness.  It  puts 
him  on  the  same  platform  with  Dr.  Johnson  when  standing 
during  the  pelting  rain  in  the  Market-place  at  Lichfield,  on 
the  spot  where  he  remembered  as  a  boy  to  have  spoken 
disrespectfully  to  his  father.  My  friend,  the  late  Sir  W. 

A ,  Civil  Engineer  in  the  Indian  Service,  told  me  that 

he  one  day  observed  Colonel  Yule  busily  moving  about, 
outside  the  Compound  in  his  shirt- sleeves,  and  without  a 
hat,  though  under  a  broiling  sun ;  he  had  before  him  a 
heap  of  bricks  and  a  board  of  mortar,  which  he  was  applying 
with  a  trowel  as  he  picked  up  first  one  brick  and  then 
another  and  adjusted  it  in  its  place.  The  proceeding 
seemed  so  strange  that  Sir  W.  at  last  hailed  him  and  asked 
him  what  he  was  about,  in  such  a  condition  and  at  such  a 
time  of  day.  Yule,  determined  probably  to  go  bravely 
through  the  humiliation  as  well  as  the  labour  he  had  im- 
posed on  himself,  replied  that  he  had  that  morning  had  to 
reprimand  a  subordinate,  and  that  on  reflection  he  felt  he 
had  spoken  too  harshly ;  he  added,  as  he  could  not  make 
this  admission  to  one  under  his  command,  he  was  expiating 
the  wrong  in  another  way. 

General  Becher  told  me  of  a  curious  and  characteristic 
inquiry  once  made  of  him  by  an  Indian  of  note  to  whom  he 
was  introduced.  "  Are  you,"  said  he,  "  a  man  of  the  sword, 
or  a  man  of  the  pen  ?  "  Colonel  Yule  was  eminently  both  : 
the  value  of  his  important  and  efficient  work  as  a  geo- 
grapher and  a  man  of  letters  can  best  be  estimated  by 
those  who  know  how  few  have  attempted  such  undertak- 
ings as  those  he  had  the  rare  ability  to  carry  out,  and  how 
greatly  therefore  such  services  as  he  has  rendered  to  our 


332  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

Anglo-Indian  interests  were  needed.  The  notes  alone  to 
his  admirable  translation  of  The  Book  of  Ser  Marco  Polo 
suffice  to  testify  to  the  vast  scope  of  Colonel  Yule's  know- 
ledge, while  the  execution  of  that  and  his  other  works  shows 
him  to  have  possessed  literary  abilities  of  the  first  order. 
Those  who  know  his  productions  know  also  that  perhaps  he 
alone  of  all  his  contemporaries  could  have  threaded  as  he  has, 
for  his  readers,  the  intricate  and  untrodden  paths  of  Asiatic 
research. 
General  Sir  Another  interesting  old  military  friend  was  General  Sir 

James  Alex- 
ander, B  A.,    James  Alexander,  E.A..  K.C.B.,  who  also  served  with  distinc- 

KGB 

tion  in  India  and  was  one  of  the  heroes  at  the  Kyber 
Pass. 

At  one  period  of  his  service  he  had  among  his  subordinates 
Sir  Henry  (then  Mr.)  Lawrence,  and  what  was  more  remark- 
able, as  he  once  told  me,  he  was  the  only  one  of  them  he 
ever  had  to  reprimand.  This  was  on  the  occasion  of  a  grand 
military  review  before  Lord  Elphinstone,  when  Lawrence 
rode  up  at  the  last  moment  and  took  up  his  place  in  a  tenue 
altogether  out  of  keeping  with  the  trim  condition  of  all  the 
troops,  whether  officers  or  men;  he  was  not  only  covered  with 
dust,  but  almost  every  item  of  his  accoutrement  was  out  of 
gear,  and  Sir  James  was  obliged  to  order  him  to  "  fall  out." 
But  neatness  was  the  bete  noire  of  the  Lawrence  family  ;  they 
were  so  great  in  other  ways  that  they  seemed  to  consider 
the  conventional  minutiae,  whether  of  etiquette  or  appear- 
ance, beneath  their  attention,  and  there  are  many  known 
instances  of  the  untidiness  of  Sir  Henry's  as  well  as  of  Lord 
Lawrence's  attire  and  surroundings  :  Lord  Lawrence,  indeed, 
often  received  important  personages  when  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
and  in  a  room  (or  a  tent,  as  the  case  might  be)  where  every 
article  of  furniture  was  in  disorder. 

This  disregard  of  personal  order  has,  however,  been  ob- 
served in  other  great  men  besides  Sir  Henry  and  Lord 
Lawrence — the  great  lexicographer,  for  example — Fox,  and 
others. 


GENERAL   SIR   JAMES   ALEXANDER,   R.A.,   K.C.B.     833 

Sir  James  had  two  brother-officers  whose  rank  and  names 
were  precisely  the  same  as  his  own ;  three  "  Generals  Sir 
James  Alexander,  E.A.,  K.C.B.,"  all  members  of  the  United 
Service  Club  ;  inevitably,  therefore,  they  were  continually 
opening  each  other's  letters  ! 

Sir  James  was  actively  engaged  in  the  Afghan  War,  and 
after  the  fatal  issue  of  the  13th  of  January,  1842,  was 
stationed  at  Jellallabad,  where  it  was  he  who  received  Dr. 
Brydone  when  he  returned  wan,  feeble,  and  scarcely  able 
still  to  hold  the  reins,  on  his  equally  dilapidated  steed, 
bringing  the  cruel  news  that  he  was  the  sole  survivor  of 
the  gallant  44th.  Perhaps  no  page  of  history  is  more 
pathetic  than  those  in  which  Sir  John  Kaye  has  described 
the  heart-breaking  scene,  nor  are  there  many  war-pictures 
more  touching  than  Lady  Butler's  vividly-imagined  repre- 
sentation of  "  The  Bemnants  of  an  Army." 

An  altogether  unaccountable  incident,  which  however 
seems  to  be  satisfactorily  authenticated,  was  the  extraordi- 
nary and  circumstantial  prophecy  of  Colonel  Dennie,  that 
only  one  of  the  sixteen  thousand  men  forming  the  Cabul 
army  would  escape  destruction,  and  that  that  one  would 
return  as  a  messenger  to  tell  that  the  rest  had  perished. 
Sir  John  Kaye  says  that  Dennie's  voice  assumed  the 
solemnity  of  an  oracle  when,  as  this  solitary,  broken-down 
figure  whom  no  one  recognized,  was  seen  approaching,  he 
exclaimed — "  Here  comes  the  messenger." 

Sir  James  Alexander  was  most  unfortunate  in  losing  one 
after  another  every  relation  he  had ;  till,  at  an  advanced  age 
he  was  left  with  an  only  daughter  who  was  devoted  to  him, 
and  indeed  seemed  indispensable  to  his  very  being,  for 
in  consequence  of  a  wound  in  his  right  hand  he  could 
not  even  hold  a  pen.  However,  in  1885,  after  a  very 
short  illness,  she,  too,  was  taken,  and  the  rest  of  the 
brave  veteran's  life  was  a  dreary  solitude ;  though  he  bore 
his  loss  with  an  equanimity  most  touching  to  witness, 
and  which  took  his  friends  by  surprise.  Happily  his  eye- 


334  GOSSIP   OF    THE    CENTURY. 

sight  remained  good,  and  as  he  was  very  cultivated,  he  was 
able  to  amuse  himself  with  literature.  Though  he  did  not 
brood  over  his  sorrow  he  would  have  nothing  moved  in 
the  rooms  his  daughter  had  occupied,  and  to  the  day  of  his. 
death,  which  occurred  two  years  later,  when  he  was  eighty- 
four,  everything  remained  precisely  as  she  had  left  it.  He 
never  spoke  of  her  but  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes. 

Sir  James  was  a  fine  character,  and  a  perfect  gentleman 
of  the  old  school ;  polite  and  gallant,  but  unobtrusively  so, 
he  was  naturally,  therefore,  a  universal  favourite,  and  as  he 
had  seen  a  great  deal  of  life  during  his  long  military  service 
his  conversation  was  exceedingly  entertaining. 

He  used  to  relate  many  amusing  instances  of  his  faculty 
of  second  sight,  and  told  them  with  such  entire  conviction, 
that  he  imparted  his  own  belief  to  the  most  incredulous  of 
his  hearers.  He  would  also  relate  the  most  extraordinary 
dreams,  the  incidents  of  which  seemed  planned  and  inter- 
woven like  those  of  a  drama,  and,  what  is  more  remarkable,, 
they  appeared  to  be  continued,  as  if  in  chapters  or  scenes, 
from  one  night  to  another.  Some  of  those  which  came  to 
him  in  India  when  in  active  service  were  so  generally 
interesting  that  his  daughter  used  to  insist  on  his  relating 
them  to  her  the  morning  after  they  occurred,  and  she  wrote 
them  down,  thus  making,  as  she  assured  me,  quite  a 
romantic  as  well  as  a  very  suggestive  volume.  Unhappily 
this  rare  MS.  was  lost  on  an  occasion  when  Sir  James'& 
baggage  was  plundered  in  India  by  some  natives. 

Another  curious  fact  illustrative  of  the  General's  peculiar 
mental  condition  was  that  after  thinking  over  the  "  Fifteen 
Puzzle  "  which  I  showed  him  one  day  just  after  it  came 
out,  and  failing  altogether  to  discover  it  while  awake,  he 
made  it  out  that  night  in  his  sleep  ! 
*«  Among  those  of  our  heroes  hurried  out  of  the  world  in  the 

of  Magdala. 

winter  of  1889-90,  by  the  fatal  influenza  epidemic,  there  were 
few  whose  loss  was  more  widely  felt  than  that  of  Lord  Napier 
of  Magdala.  I  had  met  him  and  Lady  Napier  in  the  previous. 


LORD   NAPIER   OF   MAGDALA.  33* 

summer  at  the  wedding  of  a  young  relative  of  his,  daughter 
of  old  friends  of  my  own,  Mr.  and  Mrs  Triibner,  and  as  her 
father  was  dead,  it  fell  to  Lord  Napier  to  assume  a  paternal 
part  on  the  occasion,  and  to  give  the  bride  away ;  a  task  appa- 
rently very  agreeable  to  him,  and  which  he  performed  with 
the  greatest  amiability  and  grace.  At  that  time  the  veteran 
appeared  in  vigorous  health,  and  it  was  generally 
remarked  among  the  throng  of  guests  \vho  filled  the 
rooms  and  garden  of  the  villa,  that  he  seemed  to 
have  in  him  any  amount  of  life.  Indeed,  but  for  the  un- 
toward attack,  which  proved  fatal,  he  might  have  lived  on 
with  all  his  powers  unimpaired  for  many  years,  but  it  was  a 
case  for  the  wise  French  physician,  who  said  to  M.  Thiers, 
"  Soyez  vieux  tant  que  vous  voudrez,  inais,  avec  fa,  ne 
vous  avisez  pas  d'etre  malade." 

The  wedding  present  selected  for  the  little  bride  by 
Lord  and  Lady  Napier  made  a  considerable  show  among 
the  bridal  gifts ;  it  was  a  silver  service  in  admirable 
taste. 

The  public  funeral  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  awarded  to 
this  brave  and  distinguished  officer,  carried  out  with  every 
demonstration  of  sympathy  and  appreciation  on  the  part  of 
the  Royal  Family,  as  well  as  of  the  nation,  must  have  been 
very  consoling  to  the  grief  of  his  surviving  relatives. 

By  way  of  illustrating  Lord  Napier's  military  ability,  I  am 
led  to  record  here  an  apparently  forgotten  incident  of  his 
career,  creditable  alike  to  his  acumen,  his  energy,  and  hi& 
modesty. 

When,  in  the  year  1860,  the  French  were  our  allies  in 
China,  the  Commander-in-chief  of  their  contingent  was 
General  Cousin-Montauban.  In  August  of  that  year,  the 
Anglo-French  troops  had  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Pei-ho 
River,  and  had  before  them  the  task  of  attacking  the  North 
Ta-kou  forts,  a  very  important  undertaking.  It  would 
appear  that  neither  Montauban  nor  Grant  were  equal  to  the 
occasion,  nor  could  they  agree  on  the  plan  of  attack; 


386  GOSSIP   OF    THE    CENTUKY. 

happily,  Napier  was  there.  Sir  Hope  Grant,  in  his  extremity, 
called  this  intelligent  officer  into  consultation,  when  he  at 
once  pointed  out  what  he  considered  the  only  course  to  be 
pursued.  Sir  Hope,  rejoicing  to  have  found  an  expedient 
which  at  once  recommended  itself  to  his  own  judgment, 
asked  Napier  to  draw  up  his  suggestion  in  form  that  he  might 
submit  it,  as  in  courtesy  bound,  to  the  French  General. 
The  latter,  piqued  probably  that  the  ingenious  resource 
proposed  had  escaped  his  own  perspicacity,  pooh-poohed  the 
scheme,  and  positively  refused  to  join  in  adopting  it.  Sir 
Hope  communicated  the  disappointment  he  thus  experienced 
to  Napier,  and  feeling  himself  in  a  terrible  dilemma,  asked 
him  what  he  should  do.  Napier  replied  that  as  this  French 
fellow  had  suggested  nothing  better — indeed,  nothing  at  all, 
—the  only  way  would  be  for  Sir  Hope  to  take  the  matter  on 
himself,  and  proceed  as  if  he  had  obtained  his  consent, 
adding  he  felt  sure  that  when  operations  were  set  going, 
Montauban  would  quietly  fall  in,  as  he  must  see  very  well 
there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done. 

This  advice  was  followed  :  the  whole  of  the  artillery  was 
put  under  Napier's  command,  and  the  conduct  of  the  affair 
was  committed  to  him.  The  result  completely  justified  his 
expectations,  and  led  to  his  speedy  promotion :  Montauban 
had  wisely  abstained  from  any  further  resistance.  The  forts 
were  taken,  and  on  the  21st  of  September,  the  Anglo-French 
troops  advanced  to  Pa-li-kao,  where  they  met  and  completely 
routed  the  Chinese,  under  command  of  Sang-ko-lin-sin. 
Hence  they  marched  on  to  Pekin,  and  took  it  on  the  12th 
of  October.  The  Chinese,  terrified  at  the  prodigious  and 
facile  successes  of  this  handful  of  troops,  against  whom  they 
had  brought  a  disproportionately  numerous  force,  found  it 
expedient  to  conform  to  the  conditions  imposed  by  the  allies, 
and  hastened  to  sign  the  treaty  of  peace  offered  them  as  a 
sine  qua  non. 

The  French  General  Montauban,  whose  management  on 
this  occasion  was,  to  say  the  least,  unhelpful,  seems  to  have 


HIS  FINE  MOKAL  AND  MILITARY  QUALIFICATIONS.    837 

walked  off  with  more  than  his  share  of  the  "  gloire"  and  to 
have  been  gratified  with  the  title  of  Connie  de  Pa-li-ka-ho, 
whatever  that  may  be  worth.  It  is  a  significant  fact  that 
the  French  historians  and  cyclopaedists,  who  give  an  account 
of  this  episode  of  allied  warfare,  carefully  ignore  even  the 
presence  of  the  English  officers,  and  speak  of  Montauban  as 
"  the  commander  of  the  Anglo-French  troops,"  and  as  if  he 
alone  had  planned  the  attack,  which  he  had  really  condemned, 
and  also  as  if  the  success  of  the  engagement  was  due  to  him, 
and  to  him  alone. 

"  But  glory  long  has  made  the  sages  smile ; 

Tis  something,  nothing,  words,  illusion,  wind — 
Depending  more  on  the  historian's  style 

Than  on  the  name  the  person  leaves  behind." 

Like  General  John  Becher,  Napier  remained  on  terms  of 
affectionate  friendship  with  both  the  Lawrences  after  they 
had  ceased  to  agree  with  one  another.  Lord  Lawrence, 
however,  although  he  entertained  the  highest  opinion  of 
Napier's  abilities,  and  was  well  aware  of  the  intelligent 
management  with  which  he  conducted  to  a  successful  issue 
whatever  he  undertook,  never  became  reconciled  to  his  reck- 
lessness in  the  matter  of  expenditure.  Napier  was  abso- 
lutely incorrigible  in  this  respect ;  it  had,  however,  to  be  borne 
with ;  for,  as  Lord  Lawrence  was  obliged  to  admit,  "  if  a 
thing  had  to  be  well  done,  there  was  no  one  like  Napier 
for  being  trusted  to  do  it,  ...  but,"  added  he,  "  it  costs 
money." 

Napier's  brilliant  career  is  the  more  creditable  because, 
when  he  started  in  1826  with  his  first  commission,  he  went 
to  his  work  with  no  adventitious  advantages,  and  had  nothing 
to  rely  on  but  his  own  unaided  capabilities.  The  services  he 
rendered  to  his  country  were  very  various,  comprising  both 
civil  and  military  duties,  and  carrying  him  into  widely 
different  localities.  He  was  a  favourite  with  all,  whether  as 
an  officer  or  a  man,  and  was  greatly  loved  in  either  capacity, 
by  all  who  approached  him. 

VOL.  i.  23 


SOME  LEGAL  CELEBEITIES. 


When  Peter  the  Great  visited  England,  he  was  taken  to  the  Courts  of  Law  :  the 
first  question  His  Imperial  Majesty  asked  was,  who  were  all  those  busy  persons  in 
black,  and  learning  they  were  lawyers — "Alt  those,  lawyers  !  "  said  he,  "  why  I  have 
only  two  in  all  my  dominions,  and  one  of  those  is  going  to  be  hanged  as  soon  as  I 
get  back." 


CHAPTEE    VI. 

SOME  LEGAL  CELEBRITIES. 

"  Justitiam,  Numen  junxit  cum  lege ;  sed  eheu  ! 
Quas  junxit  Numen,  dissociavit  homo." 

"...  que  es  bien 
Guardar  el  segundo  oido 
Para  quien  llega  despues." 

CALDERON  DE  LA  BARCA. 

Mjjrs  Siici]  SiKaffi)/s,  vpiv  a^olv  fivOov  aKov<rr)e. — PHOCIDES. 

WALTEE  SAVAGE  LANDOE  says— "  Law  in  England 
and  in  most  other  European  countries  is  the  crown  of 
injustice,  and  as  burning  and  intolerable  as  that  nailed  and 
hammered  on  the  head  of  Zekkter  after  he  had  been  forced 
to  eat  the  quivering  flesh  of  his  companions  in  insurrec- 
tion." 

Even  worse  things  than  this  might  be  said  of  English 
law ;  and  I  do  not  propose  to  enter  here  into  the  subject  of 
law  and  its  injustices,  or  I  could  fill  pages  with  narrations, 
merely  personal,  which  would  make  the  above  savage  sarcasm 
appear  mild ;  or,  I  might  call  attention  to  the  luminous 
simplicity  of  those  admirable  and  unapproachable  decisions 
of  Sancho's,  forming,  perhaps,  the  finest  condemnation  of  the 
operations  of  "  law,"  ever  penned  or  imagined.  It  is  not, 
however,  with  law  we  have  to  do  just  now,  but  with  lawyers, 
and  it  is  much  pleasanter  to  think  of  these  urbane  and 
courteous  gentlemen  in  their  social,  than  in  their  professional 
capacity,  for  no  one  can  respect  inconsistency,  and  there  is 
nothing  more  illogical  and  more  inconsistent  than  law.  I 


342  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

may  add  there  is  nothing,  at  once  more  irritating  and  more 
costly  than  its  procrastinations. 

"  The  law  decides  questions  of  meum  and  tuum 
By  neatly  contriving  to  make  the  thing  suum." 

This  might  be  supported  with  another  quotation  equally 
apt— 

"  For  learned  lawyers  at  their  ease 
Twist  words  and  phrases  as  they  please." 

Napoleon  deserves  credit  (if  for  nothing  else  in  his  civil 
administration)  for  the  efforts  he  made  to  neutralize  the 
injustices  and  aggressions  of  law,  though  the  "  Code " 
is  far  from  perfect,  and  wants  another  such  head  to  revise 
it.  Indeed,  he  was  aware  of  its  many  deficiencies  by  the 
time  he  had  seen  it  in  practice,  and  it  is  thus  he  expresses 
himself  on  the  subject  : — 

"  My  code,"  he  says,  "  had  singularly  diminished  law- 
"  suits,  by  placing  numerous  causes  within  the  comprehen- 
"  sion  of  every  individual ;  but  there  still  remained  much  for 
"  the  legislator  to  accomplish.  Not  that  I  could  hope  to 
"  prevent  men  from  quarrelling — this  they  have  done  in  all 
"  ages  ;  but  I  might  have  prevented  a  third  party  in  society 
"from  living  upon  the  quarrels  of  the  other  two,  and  from 
"  stirring  up  disputes  to  promote  their  own  interests.  It 
11  was  therefore  my  intention  to  establish  a  rule  that  lawyers 
"  should  only  receive  fees  when  they  gained  a  cause.  Thus, 
"  what  litigation  would  have  been  prevented  ! 

"  On  the  first  examination  of  a  cause,  a  lawyer  would 
"have  rejected  it  had  it  been  at  all  doubtful ;  there  would 
"have  been  no  fear  that  a  man  living  by  his  labour  would 
"have  undertaken  to  conduct  a  lawsuit  from  mere  motives 
"  of  vanity :  and  if  he  had,  he  himself  would  have  been  the 
"  only  sufferer  in  case  of  failure." 

Had  Napoleon  carried  out  this  intention,  it  is  to  be  feared 
(on  behalf  of  the  lawyers)  that  there  would  have  been  so 


LAWYEKS'  LITTLE  WAYS.  343 

little  for  them  to  do  that  their  profession  would  have  died  a 
natural  death. 

I  was  talking  to  a  lawyer  one  day  about  his  mismanage- 
ment of  some  business  of  mine,  when  on  my  remarking  it 
would  very  likely  occasion  a  lawsuit,  he  so  far  forgot  him- 
self as  to  reply — "  Well,  and  how  are  ive  to  live,  I  should 
like  to  know,  if  there  are  to  be  no  lawsuits?"  Need  I 
make  any  comment  on  this  unintentional  candour  ? 

The  law's  delays  and  other  iniquities  form  a  subject  that 
has  been  worn  threadbare.  The  cleverest  writers  of  all 
nations,  from  the  earliest  fabulists  downwards,  have  had 
their  fling  at  it,  and  no  obloquy  is  perhaps  too  severe  when 
one  thinks  with  horror  of  the  miseries  it  has  inflicted 
on  mankind ;  nothing  that  can  be  added  will  ever  be  more 
condemnatory  (nor  yet  more  useless),  than  what  has  already 
been  said,  for  like  many  other  abuses,  it  cynically  pursues 
its  heartless  course  as  triumphant  as  unabashed ;  too  thick- 
skinned  to  be  even  conscious  of  lashes,  and  apparently 
glorying  in  its  shame.  Here  is  an  example  :  Chitty  is  the 
authority  for  the  following  story,  illustrative  of  the  way  in 
which  your  solicitor  protec ts  your  interests. 

A  wealthy  attorney,  on  the  marriage  of  his  son,  gave  him 
,£500,  and  handed  him  over  a  Chancery  suit,  with  some 
common-law  actions,  telling  him  he  might  consider  himself 
a  lucky  dog  to  be  so  handsomely  provided  for. 

A  couple  of  years  after,  the  son  came  and  asked  his  father 
for  more  business. 

••More  business,  you  rascal!"  exclaimed  the  irritated 
parent,  "  why  I  gave  you  that  capital  Chancery  suit — alone 
a  princely  income  to  any  lawyer,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
several  common-law  actions.  What  more  can  you  want  ?  ' 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  naif  youth,  "but  that  was  two 
years  ago ;  and  I  have,  some  months  since,  wound  up  the 
suit,  and  made  quite  a  friend  of  my  client,  who  is  delighted 
with  the  way  in  which  I  managed  to  put  him  in  possession 
of  his  estate." 


844  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUKY. 

"  Then  what  a  silly,  improvident  fool  you  must  be !  " 
shouted  his  father,  indignantly.  "  Why,  that  suit  was  in 
my  office  a  quarter  of  a  century,  and  would  be  there  still  if 
I  had  kept  it  myself.  What's  the  use  of  putting  business 
in  your  way  ?  I  shall  do  nothing  more  for  you." 

Reading  this  we  are  not  surprised  that  Bishop  Burnet 
should  have  to  relate  of  the  father  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale, 
that  he  was  a  man  of  such  strictness  of  conscience  that  he 
gave  over  the  practice  of  the  law  because  he  could  not  see 
the  reasonableness  of  giving  "  color  "  in  pleadings, 
"  which,"  as  he  considered,  "was  to  tell  a  lye." 

Possibly,  for  some  of  my  readers  it  may  be  useful  to  add 
a  gloss,  to  the  effect  that,  as  says  Dr.  Cowell — "  *  Colour' 
signifies  in  legal  acceptation  a  profitable  plea,  but  in  truth 
false,  and  hath  this  end,  to  draw  the  trial  of  the  cause  from 
the  jury  to  the  judges." 

I  shall  say  no  more  about  law,  but  revert  to  the  original 
intention  of  this  chapter,  viz.,  to  record  the  social  charac- 
teristics of  some  few  lawyers  I  have  known  either  personally 
or  by  family  tradition. 

Among  lawyers  celebrated  for  their  humour  was  an  old 
family  friend  of  my  father's — the  well-known  Jack  Lee,  or 
"  Honest  Jack  Lee,"  as  he  came  to  be  called  by  the  fraternity 
of  the  bar.  He  was  M.P.  for  Higham  Ferrers,  Solicitor- 
General  in  1782  in  the  Buckingham  Ministry,  and  Attorney- 
General  in  the  Coalition  Ministry,  and  he  was  one  of  the 
counsel  engaged  in  the  court-martial  on  Admiral  Keppel  in 
in  1779,  and  defended  him  conjointly  with  Erskine. 

Jack  Lee  had  a  great  fund  of  anecdote,  and  was  rich  in 
humour ;  he  was  also  the  hero  of  many  a  racy  story,  and, 
though  not  prepossessing  in  personal  appearance,  was  very 
popular  among  the  profession  as  well  as  in  society.  He  was 
a  remarkable  character,  and  his  professional  abilities  were 
recognized  as  of  a  very  high  order ;  his  legal  knowledge  was 
accurate  and  trustworthy,  his  manner  not  without  authority, 
and  the  ingenuity  of  his  forensic  advocacy  found  many 


"  JACK  LEE  "  AND  JOHN  DUNNING.  345 

admirers.  On  one  occasion  he  thought  to  exercise  it  on 
behalf  of  a  client  whose  brief  he  held  in  a  breach  of  promise 
case,  and  having  ascertained  that  she  was  beautiful,  desired 
her  solicitor  to  place  Ijer  so  that  she  might  be  seen  to 
advantage  by  the  jury,  on  whose  feelings  he  proceeded  to 
operate  by  enlisting  their  sympathies  in  favour  of  such  guile- 
less loveliness.  Lee  was  so  eloquent,  that  with  the  help  of 
his  client's  charms,  he  won  their  suffrages,  and  the  verdict 
seemed  a  matter  of  certainty.  I  think  it  was  Dunning  who 
was  retained  on  the  other  side,  and  he,  having  waited 
patiently  till  Lee's  oratory  was  exhausted,  unexpectedly 
overthrew  the  well-devised  scheme.  The  learned  counsel  rose 
in  defence  of  his  client,  but  premised,  in  an  indifferent  tone, 
that  while  endorsing  all  that  his  learned  brother  had  ad- 
vanced in  praise  of  the  charming  creature  before  them,  he 
had  to  observe  that  although  with  so  much  beauty,  a  small 
defect  ought  not  to  count,  yet,  that  the  learned  Counsel  had 
(no  doubt  accidentally)  omitted  to  mention  that  his  client 
was  the  unwilling  possessor  of  a  wooden  leg.  The  effect  was 
electrical ;  it  proved  also,  fatal  to  the  cause,  and  the  rest  of 
Dunning' s  speech  was  not  even  listened  to.  I  must  add 
there  was  no  such  disability  in  the  case. 

Lee  was,  however,  at  this  time  a  prominent  man,  and  was 
one  of  the  four  (viz.,  Wallace,  Lee,  Dunning,  and  Robinson) 
who  at  the  time  Buller,  Willis,  and  Ashurst  were  on  the 
bench,  were  doing  the  most  and  the  best  business  at  the  bar. 
Eobinson  was  the  brother  of  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Montagu, 
of  Blue- Stocking-Club  reputation,  and  held  to  his  own  line. 
When  he  died,  Lee  is  said  to  have  remarked — "  We  have 
lost  the  man  in  England  for  a  point  of  law." 

Being  a  North-countryman,  Lee's  accent  was  so  strongly 
provincial  that  it  often  did  injustice  to  his  eloquence.  It 
frequently  happened  that  his  meaning  was  altogether  dis- 
torted by  his  unusual  pronunciation  ;  thus,  whenever  he 
had  to  employ  the  oft-recurring  phrase  "  showing  cause,"  he 
produced  a  sound  equivalent  to  shoeing  cows !  One  day 


346  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

Erskine  took  the  opportunity  to  show  off  his  humour,  by 
informing  the  learned  counsel,  that  in  the  South  we  "  shoe 
horses,  not  cows."  Lee  was,  however,  endowed  with  valu- 
able professional  gifts,  and  was  remarkable  for  his  astute- 
ness ;  yet  he  sometimes  compromised  the  dignity  of  his 
profession  by  having  recourse  to  a  somewhat  special  system 
of  advocacy. 

The  plan  he  adopted  was  to  assume  a  certain  tone  of 
familiarity  with  the  jury,  and,  by  employing  a  manner  and 
idiom  in  accordance  with  their  class,  which  brought  him 
down  to  their  level,  he  was  often  successful  in  winning  a  ver- 
dict. He  was  also  wont  to  intersperse  his  addresses  with 
humorous  allusions  and  anecdotes,  all  more  or  less  to  the 
purpose  it  is  true,  but  being  disaccordant  with  professional 
etiquette,  the  habit  was  not  viewed  with  an  approving  eye 
by  other  members  of  the  profession,  who  considered  that  it 
tended  to  lower  the  tone  of  the  bar,  and  now  and  then  it 
procured  him  a  retort  not  altogether  courteous. 

One  day  on  his  telling  Dunning  he  had  just  bought  some 
good  manors  in  Staffordshire  :  "I  wish,  then,"  said  Dun- 
ning, who  never  could  resist  an  opportunity  for  a  joke,  "  you 
would  bring  them  with  you  to  Westminster  Hall."  * 

That  Dunning  was  an  ugly  fellow  we  may  gather  from 
the  following.  One  night  he  was  at  Nando's  Coffee-house 
playing  at  whist,  Home  Tooke  being  one  of  the  party. 
Thurlow,  who  had  a  communication  to  make  to  him,  called 
at  the  house  and  asked  the  waiter  to  give  him  a  note  which 
he  put  into  his  hand. 


*  In  Thicknesse's  Memoirs  (1788,  p.  89),  there  is  an  anecdote  of  Dunning,  to  the 
effect  that  "  the  young  men  on  circuit  with  this  celebrated  counsellor  were  often 
astonished  to  find  that  a  man  of  such  a  mean  figure  contrived  to  win  the  preference 
of  all  the  chambermaids.  His  method  was  this.  The  moment  the  barristers 
alighted  at  an  assize  town,  Dunning  called  for  the  chambermaid.  '  Here,  child,' 
lie  would  say,  ' are  you  the  person  who  has  care  of  the  beds ? '  'I  am,  sir.' 
'  Then,'  he  would  add,  '  there's  a  guinea  for  you.'  That  retaining  fee  secured  his 
sheets  being  always  well  aired,  as  surely  such  a  generous  man  was  the  fittest 
for  them  to  oblige.  Dunning  well  understood  the  value  of  a  preliminary  fee." 


LORD  ASHBURTON.  347 

"  How  shall  I  know  Mr.  Dunning,  sir?  "  said  the  man. 

"  There's  no  difficulty  about  that,"  answered  Thurlow. 
"All  you  have  to  do  is  to  take  it  up  and  to  give  it  to  the 
ugliest  man  in  the  room.  You'll  find  him  there,  with  a  face 
like  the  knave  of  clubs." 

These  instructions  being  duly  followed,  Dunning  received 
the  note.  Dunning  afterwards  became  Lord  Ashburton. 

Lee's  attitude  when  addressing  a  jury  was  so  stereotyped 
and  also  so  marked  by  the  peculiarities  of  his  manner,  that 
once,  when  Lord  Erskine  (shortly  after  coming  to  the  Bar) 


JOHN  DUNNING,  LORD  ASHBCRTON. 

appeared  as  his  opponent,  the  latter  availed  himself  of  his 
special  gift  of  mimicry  to  take  off  Lee's  well-known  manner 
of  folding  his  arms  across  his  breast  and  throwing  back  his 
spectacles,  and  more  especially  to  imitate  his  North-country 
accent.  The  effect  of  Lee's  address  which  followed,  was,  of 
course,  entirely  destroyed  by  this  clever  but  questionable 
proceeding ;  the  Court,  however,  was  convulsed  with 
laughter,  till  Lee  rose  at  the  conclusion  of  Erskine's  speech 
and  turned  the  tables  against  him. 

"  We   all   know,"   he    said,    "  that    before    joining    our 


348  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

honourable  profession,  the  learnel  counsel  tried  his  fortune 
at  sea,  and  failing  there,  offered  himself  to  the  army;  thence 
he  proceeded  to  the  pulpit,  for  which  he  likewise  proved 
unfitted ;  but  I  did  not  suppose,  till  now,  that  his  versatility 
would  induce  him  to  prepare  for  the  career  of  mountebank 
at  Bartholomew  fair." 

The  incident  does  not  redound  to  the  credit  of  either 
party,  and  it  also  seems  strange  that  a  matter  so  entirely 
personal  should  have  been  allowed  to  disturb  public  proceed- 
ings, and  occupy  the  time  of  the  Court.  Later,  the  two 
adversaries  forgot  their  mutual  animosity,  and  became  fast 
friends.  Erskine,  who  survived  Lee,  used  to  relate  how 
Lee  had  befriended  and  encouraged  him  when,  in  his  first 
speech,  he  was  browbeaten  by  the  judge  upon  the  bench, 
and  he  also  set  great  store  upon  a  bag  which  he  was  fond  of 
showing  as  Lee's  gift,  and  was  wont  to  add,  he  should  use  it 
as  long  as  he  lived,  and  when  he  died  would  have  it  buried 
with  him.  Nor  was  Erskine  the  only  rising  young  barrister 
whom  Lee  befriended.  Horace  Twiss  states  that,  "  Mr.  Lee, 
afterwards  Solicitor  General,  who  was  familiarly  known  in 
legal  and  professional  circles  as  '  Jack  Lee,'  had  a  good 
deal  of  business  on  the  Northern  Circuit  when  Mr.  Scott 
joined  it,  and  that  he  treated  him  also,  when  a  novice,  with 
distinction  and  kindness,"  not  dreaming  that  the  youth  he 
patronised  was  the  future  Lord  Chancellor,  "  The  circuit  in 
those  days,"  he  continues,  "  was  usually  performed  on 
horseback,  and  at  its  close,  Lee  and  Scott  would  ride  home 
together."  Lord  Eldon's  Anecdote  Book  has  some  interest- 
ing recollections  of  these  journeys.  Lord  Eldon  states  there, 
that  when  he  first  went  the  Northern  Circuit,  having  no 
business  of  his  own,  he  employed  his  time  in  observing  how 
the  leading  counsel  did  theirs.  "  On  one  occasion,"  says  he, 
"  I  left  Lancaster  at  the  end  of  a  circuit  with  my  friend 
Jack  Lee,  at  that  period  a  leader  upon  the  circuit.  We 
supped  and  slept  at  Kirkby  Lonsdale.  After  supper  I  said 
to  him,  '  I  have  observed  throughout  circuit  that  in  all  cases 


JACK  LEE  AND  LORD  ELDON.  349 

you  were  concerned  in,  good,  bad,  or  indifferent,  whatever 
their  nature  was,  you  equally  exerted  yourself  to  the  utmost 
to  gain  verdicts,  stating  evidence,  and  quoting  cases,  so  that 
such  statement  and  quotation  should  give  you  a  chance  of 
success,  the  evidence  and  the  cases  not  being  stated  clearly 
or  quoted  with  strict  accuracy,  and  to  fair  and  just  repre- 
sentation.' "  '  Now,  Lee,'  I  continued,  *  can  that  be  right  ? 
How  can  you  justify  it  ?  ' 

"  c  Oh  yes,'  he  answered,  'it's  all  right;  Dr.  Johnson  said 
that  counsel  were  at  liberty  to  state,  as  the  parties  them- 
selves would  state,  what  it  was  most  for  their  interest  to 
state.' 

"  By  and  by,  Lee  had  his  bowl  of  milk-punch  followed  by 
two  or  three  pipes  of  tobacco,  when  he  suddenly  said,  '  Come, 
Master  Scott,  let  us  go  to  bed ;  I  have  been  thinking  upon 
the  question  you  brought  forward  and  I'm  not  quite  so  sure 
that  the  conduct  you  reprehended  will  bring  a  man  peace  at 
last.'  " 

It  appears  that  "  honest  Jack  Lee  "  somewhat  distorted 
even  the  dictum  which  he  attributed  to  the  great  lexico- 
grapher, and  by  which  he  tried  to  justify  himself!  Lord 
Eldon  did  justice  to  the  friendship  of  his  early  protector ;  he 
always  spoke  feelingly  of  him,  and  not  only  said  he  loved  to 
indulge  in  the  remembrance  of  the  kindness  Lee  had  shown 
him  in  his  younger  days,  he  also  admired  him  as  a  power- 
ful cross-examiner  of  witnesses ;  "  I  remember,"  he  says, 
"  a  witness  remonstrating  against  the  torture  of  Lee's  cross- 
examination.  The  man  who  was  clothed  in  rags  said, 
1  Sir,  you  treat  me  very  harshly,  and  I  feel  it  the  more 
because  we  are  relations.' 

"  '  We,  relations,  fellow  !  how  do  you  make  that  out  ?  ' 

"  '  Why,'  said  the  man,  {  my  mother  was  the  daughter  of 
such  a  man,  and  he  was  the  son  of  a  woman  who  was  the 
daughter  of  Abraham  Lee,  who  was  your  great-great-grand- 
father.' 

'  Well,'  said  Lee,  '  I  believe  you  are  right,  he  was  so ; 


350  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


therefore  rny  good  fourth  or  fifth  or  sixth  cousin,  speak  a 
little  correctly  I  beseech  you,  for  the  honour  of  the  family ; 
for  not  one  word  of  truth,  dear  cousin,  have  you  spoken 
yet.'" 

Among  other  Northern  Circuit  stories  Lord  Eldon  had  to 
tell  about  my  father's  friend,  Jack  Lee,  was  one  to  the  effect 
that  they  were  once  dining  together  at  the  house  of  a 
certain  Lawyer  Fawcett,  who  gave  an  annual  dinner  to  the 
counsel. 

In  the  midst  of  their  joviality,  Lee  suddenly  bethought 
him  of  a  case  in  which  he,  Davenport  and  Scott  (the 
future  Lord  Eldon)  were  engaged,  and  which  was  to  come 
on  the  next  day.  Lee  therefore  whispered  to  Davenport, 
"  I  can't  leave  Fawcett's  wine;  you  will  have  to  go  home 
immediately  after  dinner,  to  read  the  brief  in  that  cause  for 
to-morrow." 

"  Not  I,  indeed ;  what !  leave  the  instant  after  dinner  and 
forego  my  wine,  to  read  a  stupid  brief;  no,  no,  Lee  my  boy, 
that  won't  do." 

"  Then,"  said  Lee,  "  be  so  good  as  say  what's  to  be  done. 
Who  else  is  employed  ?  " 

"  Why,  young  Scott,  to  be  sure." 

"  Very  well,  then  he  must  go.  Mr.  Scott,  you  must  be 
off  at  once  and  make  yourself  acquainted  with  the  details  of 
that  cause,  against  wre  come  in  for  consultation  this  evening." 

Scott  accordingly  went,  leaving  a  large  and  jolly  party 
enjoying  themselves  ;  he  was  still  poring  over  his  dry  task, 
when  Lee  came  reeling  in. 

"  Eh  ?  what?"  said  he,  in  reply  to  Scott's  remark  that 
he  had  mastered  the  brief;  "  Consult,  consult  ?  oh  !  no,  I'm 
not  going  to  consult  to-night  ;  I'm  going  to  bed,"  and  he 
passed  on. 

Sir  Thomas  Davenport  arrived  next  in  a  very  similar 
condition.  "Dear  me,"  he  said,  "  how  perplexing!  how 
drunk  Mr.  Scott  seems  to  be !  quite  impossible  to  have  a 
consultation  while  he  is  in  that  state." 


JACK  LEE  ON  CIRCUIT.  351 

Scott  was  young,  and  what  was  more,  he  had  lost  the  last 
course  of  his  dinner,  and  had  left  without  coming  in  for  any 
wine,  and  yet  it  was  he  the  only  sober  man  of  the  company,, 
whose  drunkenness  was  to  be  fatal  to  the  cause  ;  for  the 
verdict  was  adverse,  thanks  to  Lawyer  Fawcett's  dinner. 
However,  they  moved  for  a  new  trial ;  and  be  it  said,  to  the 
honour  of  the  Bar,  Jack  Lee  and  Sir  Thomas  Davenport 
paid  between  them  all  the  expenses  of  the  first  trial.  Lord 
Eldon  remarks,  "  It  is  the  only  instance  of  such  a  thing  I 
ever  knew,  but  they  did." 

As  I  have  said,  they  moved  for  a  new  trial,  and  it  was 
granted  the  following  year.  When  it  came  on,  the  judge 
rose  and  said,  addressing  the  counsel,  "  Gentlemen,  did  any 
of  you  dine  with  Lawyer  Fawcett  yesterday  ?  for  if  you  did, 
I  will  not  hear  this  cause  till  next  year."  There  was  great 
laughter,  but  they  gained  the  cause  this  time. 

Though  Jack  Lee  was  a  Yorkshire-man  he  went  many 
years  to  York  without  receiving  a  single  brief.  One  after- 
noon, after  dinner,  he  said  he  found  it  too  true  that  "  a 
prophet  has  no  honour  in  his  own  country,"  and  that  as  he 
never  received  a  single  guinea  in  York,  he  should  shake  th& 
dust  off  his  feet  and  leave  it  the  next  morning  for  ever. 

Davenport,  on  hearing  this  determination,  went  home  to 
his  lodgings,  and  aided  by  Wedderburn,  drew  up  a  sham 
brief,  purporting  to  be  "  In  a  matter  entitled,  '  The  King 
against  the  inhabitants  of  Hum  town ' — for  not  repairing  a 
highway,"  setting  forth  the  indictment  and  the  names  of  the 
witnesses  to  be  examined,  and  their  testimony  in  a  most 
skilful  manner.  This  they  sent  to  Lee's  lodgings  with  a. 
guinea  as  the  fee. 

When  Lee  came  into  the  circuit-room  in  the  evening, 
Wedderburn  exclaimed,  "Bless  me,  Lee!  is  that  you? 
Why,  I  thought  you  were  gone !  " 

"Well,"  answered  Lee,  "  I  was  just  going,  but  it's  very 
extraordinary,  a  brief  has  been  brought  me,  so  I  must. 
stay." 


352  GOSSIP  OF   THE    CENTURY. 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Davenport,  "  In  what  cause  might  that 
he?" 

Lee  looked  at  it  and  replied,  "  It's  an  indictment,  the 
King  against  the  inhabitants  of  Hum  town,  for  not  repairing 
a  highway." 

"  Oh  !  dear,"  said  Davenport,  "  why  they  brought  me  a 
brief  in  that  case,  with  a  bad  guinea,  and  I  wouldn't  take 
it ;  I  daresay  they  have  tried  the  same  game  on  you." 

"  Here  it  is,"  answered  Lee. 

Davenport  looked  at  it  and  said,  "Yes,  it's  the  same 
guinea,"  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

Wedderburn  and  Davenport  then  told  Lee  the  joke  they 
had  practised  in  order  to  have  the  benefit  of  his  company 
.a  little  longer  at  York;  but,  though  he  was  a  very  good- 
tempered  man,  he  never  forgave  them  thoroughly. 

Having  remained  that  night,  Lee  stayed  on,  got  one  or 
two  briefs  which  made  the  beginning  of  a  most  successful 
career,  and  afterwards  led  almost  every  cause  at  York. 

At  the  time  Lee  was  Chief  Justice,  a  colleague  thought 
to  compliment  him  by  applying  to  him  Addison's  paper— 
The  Templar — (Spec.  No.  2) :  but  personalities  are  always 
risky,  and  Lee  appears  not  to  have  approved  of  the  com- 
parison of  the  imaginary  worthy  with  himself. 

Though  Lee  piqued  himself  on  possessing  a  serious 
knowledge  of  law  and  legalities,  he  once  thoughtlessly  made 
a  remark  which,  coming  from  his  lips,  was  something  beyond 
a  joke. 

"A  charter!"  said  he;  "  well,  what  is  a  charter;  what 
indeed,  but  a  skin  of  parchment  with  a  lump  of  wax  hang- 
ing to  it !  "  not  a  very  professional  description,  it  must  be 
allowed,  and  much  censured  at  the  time. 

Jack  Lee  was  of  a  jovial  temperament  and  of  a  hospitable 
disposition ;  a  recognized  gourmet,  he  gave  sumptuous 
dinners,  and  made  himself  popular  whether  within  or  with- 
out the  profession.  His  family  seat  at  Staindrop  was 
kept  up  in  old  English  style,  and  his  hot-houses  and 


LEE'S   DEATH.  853 


pineries  as  well  as  his  cuisine,  enjoyed  a  County  reputa- 
tion especially  among  those  who  were  invited  to  enjoy 
them.  When  his  fortune  had  reached  £50,000,  he  deter- 
mined to  lay  by  no  more  of  his  income ;  his  only  child 
being  a  daughter,  he  wisely  considered  she  would  be 
sufficiently  provided  for,  with  that  capital ;  he  therefore 
began  to  spend  yearly  the  whole  of  his  revenue  ;  but,  how- 
ever easy  a  task  we  may  find  it  in  these  days  to  dispose 
of  twro  or  three  thousand  a  year,  Lee  seems  to  have 
accomplished  it  with  difficulty,  though  he  had  recourse  to 
the  costly  expedient  of  "  serving  champagne  at  his  table 
in  pint  mugs  like  table  beer " ;  he  perpetrated  other 
eccentricities ;  among  them,  indulging  a  fancy  for  con- 
tinuing in  active  work  even  after  his  (only  partial)  recovery 
from  a  paralytic  seizure,  so  serious  as  sensibly  to  affect 
his  intelligence  :  all  those  around  him  plainly  discerned  the 
effect  it  had  had  upon  him,  and  a  second  attack  not  long 
after,  caused  a  protracted  illness  which  at  last  carried  him 
off  very  suddenly. 

My  grandfather,  at  that  time  Attorney-General  of  the  Isle 
of  Man,  being  on  August  5,  1793,  on  his  way  to  Douglas, 
when  changing  horses  at  Darlington,  desired  the  post-boy 
to  drive  through  Staindrop,  as  he  wished  to  call  on  Mr.  Lee. 

"Beg  pardon,  Sir  W."  said  the  man,  "but  Mr.  Lee 
died  this  morning." 

The  record  of  Lee's  death  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine 
is  couched  in  terms  singularly  complimentary  to  his  pro- 
found professional  knowledge,  no  less  than  to  the  marked 
integrity  of  his  character ;  it  also  gives  him  credit  for  high 
literary  cultivation  and  most  agreeable  conversation. 

There  were,  in  Lee's  time,  two  other  Lees  of  some  repute  ; 
of  these,  one  was  an  indolent  fellow  in  holy  orders;  the 
other,  a  man  of  fortune  leading  u  luxurious  life.  A  humorous 
French  lady,  speaking  of  this  trio  of  Lees,  styled  them 
respectively,  "  lit  de  Justin-,  I  if  tie  repos,  and  lit  de  2><ini</< ." 

Notwithstanding    occasional    coarseness   of   speech    and 

VOL.  i.  24 


s* 

,A 
\s^ 


354  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

manners,  due  perhaps  to  the  custom  of  the  times,  Lee  was 
a  man  of  delicate  feeling.  After  the  acquittal  of  Admiral 
Keppel,  that  brave  officer,  in  recognition  of  the  services  of 
his  counsel  —  Jack  Lee  (Solicitor  General),  Dunning  (after-  ^ 
wards  Lord  Ashburton),  and  Erskine  (afterwards  Lord 
Chancellor)  —  presented  them  each  with  a  £1,000  note.  Lee 
politely  declined  to  accept  the  gift,  as  also  Dunning  ;  but 
Erskine  (the  youngest),  having  a  wife  and  eight  children, 
could  not  afford  to  abandon  so  important  a  sum.  Lee,  who- 
loved  and  admired  Keppel,  wrote  to  him  and  asked  him  to 
give  him  his  portrait,  painted  by  one  Dance  —  who,  it  seems, 
/i  took  excellent  likenesses  —  "  that  I  may  keep  it  as  an  heir- 
V)  loom."  But  Keppel  was  not  to  be  outdone  in  generosity: 
he  sat  to  Sir  Joshua  for  a  three-quarter  length  life-size 
portrait,  and  had  four  replicas  painted,  which  he  distributed 
to  Lee,  Dunning,  Burke,  and  Erskine.  Lee's  own  portrait, 
mentioned  above,  and  Yiscount  Keppel's,  thus  presented  to 
him,  have  now  both  fallen  into  the  same  hands,  and  hang 
side  by  side.* 

As  Lee  left  no  son,  his  £50,000  and  the  Staindrop  pro- 
perty came  to  his  only  daughter,  Penelope  Tabitha,  looked 
upon  as  a  great  heiress.  She  was,  or  appeared  to  be, 
a  very  elderly  lady  when  I  was  a  small  child.  She  was 
always  richly  dressed,  wearing  brocades  and  laces  of  great 
value  ;  she  drove  in  a  well-appointed  equipage,  sometimes 
a  landau,  sometimes  a  vis-d-vis,  and  was  treated  with  great 
respect.  She  was,  however,  short  and  wizened,  and  slow  in 
her  movements,  and  her  face  was  bony  and  red,  with  a  sharp 
nose,  thin  lips,  and  very  small  eyes.  Her  fortune,  which 
certainly  was  not  her  face,  was  in  those  days  considered 
handsome  for  a  single  lady  (even  although  she  was  not 
handsome  herself).  Possibly  on  that  account  she  had 
thought  it  advisable  to  shun  matrimony,  and  certainly  her 
personal  charms  were  not  sufficiently  prominent  to  bring  a 

*  These  admirable  portraits  were  lent  to  the  Guelpli  Exhibition  Committee,  by 
Hon.  F.  B.  Massey  Mainwaring,  their  present  owner,  a  collector  of  great  taste. 


JACK  LEE'S  ONLY  DAUGHTER  AND  HEIEESS.       355 

large  choice  of  suitors  to  her  feet.  She  never  showed  any 
signs  of  having  inherited  her  father's  sense  of  humour; 
indeed  her  mind,  which  may  once  have  been  more  vigorous 
than  at  the  time  I  remember  her,  was  undoubtedly  feeble, 
and  she  appeared  to  be  entirely  governed  by  a  toady  called 
Miss  Addison,  who  was  styled  her  "  companion  "  ;  and  no 
doubt  she  had  a  very  good  place,  being  always ,  nearly  as 
expensively  attired  as  Miss  Lee  herself.  She  was  also  far 
more  self-assertive ;  for,  notwithstanding  her  large  posses- 
sions, Miss  Lee  had  not  succeeded  in  acquiring  what  Sydney 
Smith  expressively  terms  "  a  landed  air." 

While  unmistakably  ladylike,  she  had  a  curiously  shy, 
diffident  manner,  which  may  have  been  the  outcome  of  the 
subjection  under  which  she  was  kept  by  her  "  companion/' 
who,  though  always  smiling  and  gentle,  contrived  to  make 
her  understand  that  she  was  to  defer  to  her  in  everything ; 
and  what  was  more  remarkable,  she  accepted  the  position 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  never  either  complained  of  or 
resisted  it ;  on  the  contrary,  with  the  most  lamblike  sub- 
mission, she  made  a  point  of  consulting  "  Miss  Addison  " 
as  to  her  minutest  acts.  She  never  ventured  to  taste  of  any 
dish  at  table,  or  even  to  take  a  cup  of  tea,  without  first 
obtaining  Miss  Addison' s  permission ;  and  if,  after  the 
fashion  of  those  days,  the  host  greeted  her  with,  "  A  glass 
of  wine  with  you,  Miss  Lee,"  she  seemed  to  consider  it 
necessary  to  gain  Miss  Addison' s  assent  before  giving  her 
own.  My  father,  one  night  after  dinner,  asked  her  to  come 
into  the  verandah  to  look  at  the  moon,  through  a  fine 
telescope  he  had,  but  we  knew  Miss  Addison's  veto  was  at 
hand,  for  she  objected  to  the  night  air  herself,  cared  nothing 
for  astronomy,  and  never  lost  sight  of  "  dear,  precious  Miss 
Lee  "  for  a  single  instant. 

Miss  Lee  had  a  queer  way  of  fumbling  in  her  pocket, 
which  seemed  often  difficult  to  fathom,  but  this,  often 
lengthy,  process  generally  resulted  in  the  production  of  a 
curious  little  enamelled  snuff-box,  a  Wedgwood  scent-bottle, 


356  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUBY. 

or  a  gold  vinaigrette.  She  had  a  strange  primitive  way  of 
rising  to  shake  hands  even  with  the  smallest  child  that  came 
into  the  room,  and  always  asked  these  babies,  in  a  measured 
tone  of  mingled  respect  and  good-nature,  "  How — do — you— 
do,  ma  am  ?  "  or  "  How7 — do — you — do,  s?V  ?  "  but  she  never 
found  anything  to  say  to  them  beyond  that. 

On  one  memorable  occasion  Miss  Lee,  followed  necessarily 
by  her  shadow,  Miss  Addison,  was  one  of  fourteen  guests 
who  had  been  invited  to  our  house  to  dinner,  when  one  of 
the  number  happened  to  fail,  and  on  entering  the  room  and 
taking  her  place,  she  perceived  the  vacant  chair,  which 
reduced  the  number  to  the  fateful  thirteen.  Incredible  as 
it  may  seem,  the  poor  old  lady  was  so  struck  by  the  circum- 
stance that,  without  even  asking  Miss  Addison's  permission, 
she  fainted. 

Being  small  at  the  time  I  did  not  witness  this  scene,  but 
I  remember  looking  over  the  rails  of  a  gallery  which  com- 
manded the  horseshoe  staircase,  and  wondering  to  see  my 
father  carrying  the  old  lady  upstairs  to  the  drawing-room 
sofa ;  a  never-to-be-forgotten  incident  occurring  during  the 
trajet,  viz.,  the  dropping  off  of  her  turban  and  wig,  which 
lay  helplessly  at  intervals  on  the  stairs,  till  hastily  picked 
up  by  "  Miss  Addison,"  who  followed  closely  in  the  wake. 
Meanwhile  one  of  the  older  children  was  expeditiously 
dressed  and  sent  in  to  make  up  the  accredited  number,  by  the 
time  Miss  Lee  was  sufficiently  restored  to  go  down  again. 

Had  the  good  lady  lived  in  these  times  she  would  probably 
have  joined  a  Paris  association  now  forming,  to  provide 
"fourteenths  "  for  dinner-parties  where  a  guest  is  missing. 
The  Company  undertakes  that  its  envoys  shall  be  persons  of 
good  address  and  appearance,  correctly  costumed  and  well- 
mannered,  and  ready  to  be  started  at  a  moment's  notice  by 
telephone  or  messenger ;  they  are  warranted  capable  of 
keeping  up  harmless  and  amusing  small  talk. 

The  No.  "  13  "  seems  to  be  more  universally  shunned  in 
France  than  in  England.  In  many  French  hotels  the  land- 


LOED  ELDOX  AND  HIS  BROTHER  LORD  STOWELL.  357 

lord  takes  the  precaution  of  suppressing  it,  the  room  after 
No.  12  is  No.  14,  and,  as  an  Irishman  would  say,  "  there 
isn't  no  No.  13  at  all  at  all."  Walter  Scott,  Sheridan, 
Mario,  and  Grisi,  all  largely  shared  in  this  superstition. 

The  celebrated  contemporary  of  these  gentlemen — Lord 
Eldon — whose  romantic  marriage  (when  John  Scott)  with 
Miss  Surtees,  was  the  commencement  of  a  happy  but 
laborious,  and  finally  distinguished,  life,  was  not  only  popular 
at  the  bar,  but  was  always  favourably  received  at  Court, 
whether  under  George  III.  or  IV.  It  is  creditable  to  the 
latter,  in  his  character  of  host,  that  he  should  have  retained 
a  remembrance  of  the  singular  partiality  of  the  Lord 
Chancellor  for  "  liver  and  bacon,"  and  always  made  a  point 
of  having  it  served  as  an  entree,  whenever  Lord  Eldon  dined 
at  the  Eo}ral  table. 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  give  any  detail  of  the  Scott 
family  here,  their  lives  having  been  so  exhaustively  written. 
A  bo?i  mot  of  Jekyll's  which  I  remember  hearing  related  by 
Mr.  Martin  Archer  Shee,  Q.C.,  apropos  of  Lord  Eldon's 
brother,  Sir  William  Scott,  afterwards  Lord  Stowell,  may 
be  new  to,  at  least,  some  of  my  readers. 

A  dinner  being  given  in  Scott's  honour  on  his  being 
raised  to  the  peerage,  by  some  accident  he  was  late  in 
arriving,  to  the  annoyance  of  the  more  punctual  guests. 
The  unexpected  delay  was  beginning  to  occasion  various 
conjectures,  when  happily  his  lordship  was  announced. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  the  legal  wit,  "I  am  sure  we  are  all 
very  glad  to  see  the  late  Sir  William  Scott  appear." 

Lord  Erskine's  bo?is  mots  and  reparties  would  fill  a 
volume,  but  most  of  them  have  found  their  way  into  print, 
whether  as  anecdotes,  or  in  his  biographies ;  perhaps  even 
the  following,  which  I  also  heard  from  Mr.  Martin  Archer  Shee. 

One  day  dining  at  the  Lord  Chancellor's,  where  he  met 
the  celebrated  navigator,  Captain  Parry,  Lord  Erskine  asked 
him  on  what  diet  he  and  his  crew  subsisted  when  frozen  up 
in  the  Polar  seas. 


358  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

"  Ah,"  replied  the  Captain,  "  we  had  no  resource  but  to 
live  on  seals." 

"And  very  good  living  too,"  replied  Lord  Erskine,  and 
(reflecting  regretfully  on  the  lucrative  office  he  had  had  to 
resign)  he  added,  "  that  is,  if  you  keep  them  long  enough."  * 

Previously  to  this,  and  while  still  in  office,  being  asked 
whether  he  were  going  to  join  the  whitebait  dinner  at 
Greenwich,  he  answered — 

"  Of  course  I  am  !  What  sort  of  a  fish  dinner  would  it  be 
without  the  Great  Seal  ?  "  f 


LORD  EESKIXE. 

I  have  more  than  once  heard  my  father  relate  that,  when 
Lord  Erskine  had  succeeded  in  a  cause  in  which  his  clients 

*  Lord  Campbell  writes  (February  28,  1853)  :  "  The  '  Bauble '  is  now  very 
expensive  to  the  country,  there  being  an  extra  outfit  of  £2,000  to  each  new 
Chancellor. 

f  Lord  Westmorland,  who  was  Privy  Seal  in  the  time  of  George  III.,  and  who 
was  not  very  strong  in  his  French,  being  in  Paris  in  1807,  was  asked  what  office  he 
held  in  the  Government,  when  he  proceeded  to  explain  that  Lord  Eldon  was 
"  Le  Grand  Sceau  d'Angleterre,  et  moi  je  suis  le  petit  sceau  !  " — a  definition 
which  seems  to  bear  out  the  anecdote  that  the  King,  being  recommended  to  give 
him  the  vacant  Order  of  the  Thistle,  replied — "  I'm  afraid  he'd  think  he  was 
meant  to  eat  it." 


LORD  EESKINE. 


359 


were  the  Directors  of  a  large  Coal  Company,  they  gave  a 
great  dinner  to  celebrate  their  triumph,  making  Erskine 
the  hero  of  the  occasion,  and  when,  after  dinner,  he  was  called 
on  for  a  toast,  he  gave  the  following — "  Sink  your  pits,  blast 
your  mines,  dam  your  rivers." 

Dr.    Parr  'told  Lord   Erskine   that   he   would  write  his 


AViewof  WE 
oranlmprefsion  of  the  PRFVY  SEAL. 

epitaph.     "  Ah  1  "  he  replied,  "such  a  prospect  is  enough 
to  make  one  commit  suicide." 

Byron  has  written  of  him  somewhat  ambiguously  as  fol- 
lows. Mentioning  in  his  diary  a  dinner  at  which  he  was  a 
guest,  he  says:  "...  Erskine,  too;  Erskine  was  there: 
good,  but  intolerable ;  he  jested,  he  talked,  he  did  every- 
thing admirably;  but  then  he  ivould  be  applauded  twice 
over  for  the  same  thing ;  he  would  read  his  own  verses,  his 


360  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

own  paragraph,  and  tell  his  story  again  and  again  :  and  then 
the  '  Trial  by  Jury '  ! !  !  I  almost  wished  it  abolished,  for  I 
sat  next  him.  As  I  had  read  his  published  speeches,  there 
was  no  occasion  to  repeat  them  to  me." 

He  once  wrote  in  a  French  lady's  album,  the  following 
impromptu: — 

"  The  French  have  taste  in  all  they  do, 

Which  we  are  quite  without ; 
For  Nature  which  has  given  them  goiit, 
Has  only  given  us — gout." 

But  Erskine  always  had  the  tongue  of  a  ready  speakery 
and,  what  is  more,  he  was  one  of  those  happily  gifted  natures 
which  win  upon  everybody.  Crabb  Robinson,  who  once 
fortuitously  heard  him  speak  in  a  will  case,  declared  that 
after  the  lapse  of  fifty-four  years,  he  had  only  to  close  his 
eyes  to  see  and  hear  him  as  distinctly  as  on  that  occasion, 
for  he  could  never  forget  his  face,  voice,  and  figure.  "  There 
was,"  he  said,  "  a  charm  in  his  tones,  a  fascination  in  his 
eye,  and  a  grace  in  his  action,  which  made  an  instant  and 
ineffaceable  impression."  It  appears  further,  that  in  Crabb 
Robinson's  opinion  of  this  case,  Erskine  was  on  "  the  wrong 
side  "  ;  still  he  not  only  got  a  verdict  out  of  the  jury,  but 
Robinson  himself  admits  that  so  urgent  was  his  advocacy, 
and  so  irresistibly  did  he  carry  his  hearers  along  with  him, 
that,  had  Erskine  lost  the  cause,  he  should  have  wept. 

Erskine's  defences  were  so  ingenious  and  so  remarkable 
among  his  contemporaries,  that  it  was  said  by  the  wits  that 
all  the  most  desperate  characters  in  London  were  imme- 
diately concerned  if  anything  ailed  him  ;  for,  as  long  as  he 
lived,  it  was  safe  to  rob  and  murder.  So  much  for  forensic 
eloquence  !  Sometimes  he  laid  it  on  so  thickly  that  he 
might  be  said  to  be  one  of  the  few  men  who  could  venture 
to  drive  a  substantive  and  six  without  fear  of  being  upset, 
and  many  would  call  attention  to  the  flow  of  his  "  gorgeous- 
rhetoric  "  and  its  irresistible  power. 

Eloquence,  however,  like  music,  can  only  be  estimated  by 


LORD   ST.  LEONARDS.  361 

recollection,  and  the  sole  proof  of  its  excellence  that  we  can 
adduce  to  convince  those  to  whom  we  describe  it,  must  lie 
in  the  impression  it  produced  on  ourselves  at  the  time,  unless 
we  judge  it  by  its  effect  011  the  world,  since  :  as  Bulwer 
wrote, — 

"  Wit  charms  tbe  fancy  ;  Wisdom  guides  the  sense 
To  make  men  nobler, — that  is  eloquence." 

At  the  time  Lord  Cranworth  was  Chancellor  there  were 
four  ex-Chancellors  receiving  pensions  of  ,£5,000  a  year 
each — Lyndhurst,  Brougham,  Truro,  and  St.  Leonards.* 

The  father  of  Lord  St.  Leonards — Sugden,  the  fashion-  Lordst. 
able  barber — lived  in  Swallow  Street — long  since  pulled  e01 
down  to  make  room  for  Eegent  Street :  my  father,  when 
a  young  man,  used  to  have  his  hair  dressed  and  powdered 
by  him,  the  fee  being  five  shillings.  Old  Sugden  had  his 
paternal  ambition,  but  it  aimed  at  an  altogether  different 
result  from  that  proposed  to  himself  by  his  son :  he  never 
looked  with  any  favour  on  the  proclivities  which  took  his 
heir  out  of  the  'air-dressing  line  of  life  for  which  he  had 
destined  him,  and  used  to  say  to  my  father,  with  a  sigh  of 
mingled  regret  and  resignation— 

"  What  can  you  do  with  a  lad,  sir,  who  'as  a  will  of  his 
own  ?  Ned's  a  clever  boy,  and,  I  know,  could  well  'ave 
got  to  the  'ead  of  his  profession  ;  but  'e's  got  the  '  law  '  in 
his  mind,  and  nothing  would  satisfy  him  but  I  must  put 
him  with  a  conveyancer  !  Lord  knows  what'll  come  of  it ! 
And  to  think  of  the  patronage  he  would  have  succeeded  to  ! 
Ah  !  Sir,"  he  would  add,  shaking  his  head  mournfully,  "no 
genius,  no  genius  for  the  profession  !  " 

Lord  St.  Leonards  was  once  reminded  of  his  barber-ous 
origin  by  a  colleague,  who  disdainfully  called  him  "  the  son 
of  a  hair-dresser,"  but  received  the  well-merited  retort — 
"Yes,  but  if  you  had  been  the  son  of  a  hair-dresser,  you 


*  The  wig  worn  by  Lord  Erekine  as  Lord  Chancellor  was  purchased  and 
exported  to  the  Coast  of  Guinea;  its  use  there  being  to  frighten  (!)  the  natives, 
by  imparting  to  the  wearer  a  mysteriously  formidable  appearance. 


362  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

would  have  been  a  hair-dresser,  yourself."     He  evidently 
preferred  the  bar  to  the  bar-ber  ! 

If  Lord  St.  Leonards  was  not  a  very  amiable  man  nor 
altogether  very  popular  among  his  colleagues,  his  energy, 
perseverance,  intelligence,  and  wit  must  have  been  of  a 
very  superior  order,  and  it  is  regrettable  that  his  old  father 
did  not  live  long  enough  to  witness  what  did  "  come  of 
it  "  ;  probably  he  would  have  doubted  his  own  faculties 
had  he  seen  his  refractory  boy  hoisted  up  to  the  highest 
position  in  the  land  attainable  by  a  layman,  taking  prece- 
dence after  the  Eoyal  Family,  with  the  solitary  intervention 
of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

The  history  of  the  Great  Seal  (as  the  history  of  its 
holders)  would  make  almost  a  volume,  and  a  very  interest- 
ing one.  The  subject  of  some  romantic  episodes,  it  has 
been  more  than  once  lost  and  found,  though  once  lost,  witli- 
out  being  found. 

In  1677,  when  Lord  Chancellor  Finch  was  its  custodian, 
a  desperate  attempt  to  steal  it  was  made  by  one  Thomas 
Sadler,  who  actually  succeeded  in  breaking  into  the  Lord 
Chancellor's  house  in  Queen  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 
and  in  carrying  off  the  mace  and  purse ;  but  Finch  was  a 
man  of  precaution,  and  kept  the  Great  Seal  securely  under 
his  pillow  !  Sadler  was  a  bold  fellow,  and  although  he  had 
failed  in  fully  carrying  out  his  plan,  he  and  his  confederates 
insolently  showed  themselves  next  day  in  a  mock  proces- 
sion parading  the  object  of  their  plunder  in  effigy,  in  front  of 
the  Lord  Chancellor's  house.  Thomas  Sadler  was  arrested, 
and  a  few  weeks  after,  paid  with  his  life  the  felony  he  had 
committed,  for  he  was  hanged  at  Tyburn.  This  was  the 
first  Seal  handed  to  Lord  Jeffreys  when  he  became  Chan- 
cellor, and  he  held  it  till  it  was  defaced :  meantime  King 
James  II.  being  hard  pushed  by  the  imminent  approach  of 
William  of  Orange,  and  determined  to  resist  his  assumption 
of  power  by  any  contrivance  that  suggested  itself,  bethought 
him  of  a  plan  which  he  considered  would  not  fail  to  em- 


HISTOKY  OF  THE   GREAT   SEAL.  363 

barrass  the  proceedings  of  the  Whig  party,  though  the 
expedient  he  adopted  seems  to  have  been  a  short-sighted, 
not  to  say  a  childish,  one.  The  incident  is  picturesque,  but 
does  not  reflect  much  credit  on  the  King  who  imagined  it, 
or  the  confederate  who  helped  him  to  carry  it  out.  The 
following  is  the  detail  of  the  event. 

On  the  10th  of  December,  1688,  the  King  sent  to  Jeffreys 
demanding  him  to  deliver  up  the  Great  Seal,  a  surrender 
which  was  effected  the  same  night  at  3  a.m.  At  that  weird 
hour,  the  King,  having  the  object  concealed  about  him, 
disguised  himself,  and  taking  with  him  only  one  atten- 
dant —  Sir  Edward  Hales  —  secretly  left  the  Palace  of 
Whitehall.  The  two  proceeded  stealthily  to  the  Horse- 
ferry,  Westminster,  where  they  hailed  a  boat  and  bid  the 
boatman  pull  off  towards  Lambeth.  During  the  passage, 
the  King  noiselessly  slipped  the  seal  into  the  river,  flatter- 
ing himself  that  he  had  finally  disposed  of  it,  and  that,  with 
it,  had  sunk  the  chances  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  :  this 
seems  to  have  been  a  strange  error  for  a  King  to  make.  It  was, 
however,  only  six  days  after,  that  a  fisherman  threw  in  his 
net  fortuitously  somewhere  near  the  spot,  and  had  the  luck 
to  haul  up  the  Great  Seal,  which  he  at  once  handed  over  to 
the  Lords  of  the  Council,  who  put  it  straight  into  the  hands 
of  the  Prince  of  Orange. 

In  the  Annual  Register  for  1784,  we  find  that  on  March 
24th,  while  it  was  under  immediate  contemplation  to  dis- 
solve Parliament,  the  Metropolis  was  thrown  into  wonder- 
ment and  consternation  by  an  extraordinary  and  mysterious 
robbery,  only  to  be  accounted  for  by  political  possibilities. 

The  Great  Seal  had  been  abstracted  from  Lord  Thur- 
low's  keeping  by  means  of  a  daring  burglary,  effected  at 
the  Chancellor's  private  residence  in  Great  Ormond  Street 
without  having  awakened  any  of  the  inmates.  Great 
Ormond  Street  was  then  on  the  very  outskirts  of  the  town, 
and  the  burglars  must  have  approached  it  across  the  fields, 
climbing  the  garden  wall,  making  an  entrance  by  the 


364  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUKY. 

kitchen  window  and  so  creeping  up  the  back  stairs,  very 
knowingly,  to  a  room  adjoining  the  study,  where  they  found 
the  object  of  their  search  enclosed  in  its  two  bags,  one  of 
leather,  the  other  of  silk.  Along  with  it  were  two  silver- 
hilted  swords  and  a  sum  of  money,  with  all  of  which  they 
made  good  their  escape,  nor  wras  the  plunder  ever  heard  of 
again,  any  more  than  the  plunderers. 

It  was  (doubtfully)  supposed  that  Lord  Loughborough 
was  concerned  (in  the  Whig  interest)  in  the  desperate  act, 
and  yet  it  has  been  questioned  wiiether  he  could  (like  King 
James)  be  wreak  enough  in  law  and  statesmanship  to  suppose 
that  the  loss  of  the  seal  could  make  more  than  a  tempo- 
rary delay  in  the  execution  of  any  political  measure  for  which 
it  was  required. 

This  suspicion  is  thus  undisguisedly  expressed  in  the 
Eolliad  : 

"  The  rugged  Thurlow,  who  with  sullen  scowl, 
In  surly  mood,  at  friend  and  foe  will  growl ; 
Of  proud  prerogatives,  the  stern  support 
Defends  the  entrance  of  St.  George's  Court 
'Gainst  factious  Whigs,  lest  they  who  stole  the  Seal 
The  sacred  diadem  itself  should  steal." 

When  Lord  Thurlow  woke  in  the  morning  and  found 
in  wrhat  a  grave  situation  he  had  been  placed,  he  immedi- 
ately repaired  to  Downing  Street  to  consult  with  Pitt, 
and  the  two  went  straight  to  Buckingham  Palace  to  inform 
the  King.  A  council  was  summoned,  and  no  time  was  lost 
in  preparing  another  Seal. 

The  bags  or  purses  in  which  the  Seal  was  kept  were 
LordEidon.  renewed  annually,  and  Lord  Eldon  held  office  so  long  that 
Lady  Eldon  was  able  to  collect  a  sufficient  number  of  these 
richly  embroidered  cases  (which  became  each  year  the  per- 
quisite of  the  Chancellor)  to  make  hangings  to  her  bed. 

In  the  autumn  of  1812  Lord  Eldon  was  Chancellor,  and 
being  at  his  country  seat,  Enscornbe,  had  taken  the  Great 
Seal  thither  with  him.  One  night  he  woke  up,  hearing  an 
alarm  of  fire,  and  his  first  thought  was  the  safety  of  his 


LORD  ELDON  AND   THE   GREAT   SEAL. 


365 


important  charge.  He  seized  it  and  rushed  into  the  garden, 
where  he  could  think  of  no  hetter  course  than  to  bury  it. 
Hastily  digging  up  a  place  for  it  among  the  flower-borders, 
he  deposited  it  there,  and  ran  back  to  see  to  the  safety  of 
his  house  and  family. 

Looking  round,  he  saw  what  he  afterwards  called  "  a  very 
pretty  sight,"  for  all  the  maids  had  left  their  beds  and  were 
standing  there  in  a  line,  making  a  chain  to  pass  the  buckets  : 
the  fire  does  not  appear  to  have  proved  very  serious,  though 
at  the  time  no  one  could  guess  how  far  it  wrould  spread,  and 


LORD  ELDON. 

the  sudden  shock,  the  unexpected  nature  of  the  catastrophe, 
and  his  terror  as  to  the  probable  loss  of  the  important  badge 
of  his  office,  were  such  as  to  induce  a  complete  confusion  in 
Lord  Eldon's  mind — which  may  perhaps  have  been  further 
upset  by  the  "  pretty  sight  "  —so  that  on  rising  next  morning 
he  could  recollect  nothing  about  the  Great  Seal,  and  when 
finally  he  remembered  burying  it,  he  had  lost  all  memory  of 
the  locality. 

The  importance  of  the  object,  which  it  was   absolutely 


366  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

necessary  he  should  recover,  suggested  the  expedient  of 
setting  all  his  family  to  search  for  it,  and,  in  describing  the 
scene  subsequently,  he  said— 

"  You  never  saw  anything  more  ridiculous  than  a  whole 
family  scattered  down  that  walk,  probing  and  digging,  till  at 
last  we  found  it." 

This  Seal  had  been  approved  and  brought  into  use  on  the 
first  day  of  the  Union,  January  1,  1801.  It  was  described  as  a 
"Temporary  Seal,"  but  was  engraven  with  the  usual  care, 
and  remained  in  use  fourteen  and  a  half  years. 

Lord  Eldon  died,  full  of  years  and  honours,  in  June,  1838. 
Charles  Greville,  who  greatly  admired  him  as  a  raconteur 
and  gives  him  credit  for  bonhomie  and  good  nature,  says  "  he 
may  have  been  a  great  lawyer,  but  he  was  contemptible  as 
a  statesman,  and  never  got  rid  of  the  narrowest  of  narrow 
Tory  principles." 

His  cheerful  disposition  and  agreeable  conversation  were 
a  boon  to  the  Lords  of  the  Council  when  in  attendance 
on  George  IV.,  who  would  keep  them  waiting  by  the 
hour,  without  any  compunction  :  it  was  then  that  the 
value  of  Lord  Eldon's  conversation  appeared.  He  talked 
willingly,  brilliantly,  and  not  garrulously  of  his  past  pro- 
fessional experiences,  which  he  related  with  so  much  humour 
that  the  time  flitted  away  only  too  quickly.  Greville 
further  remarks  on  the  unlooked-for  changes,  whether  in 
appointments  or  in  politics,  that  took  place  before  he  died, 
and  tolerably  mortified  he  must  have  been  to  witness  the  over- 
throw of  the  system  he  always  strenuously  supported  and 
the  triumph  of  the  principles  he  had  always  dreaded  and 
abhorred.  Greville  adds — What  would  he  have  said  could 
he  have  lived  to  see  "  Queen  Caroline's  Attorney-General  on 
the  Woolsack,  and  her  Solicitor-General,  Chief  Justice  of 
England  !  " 

Lord  Campbell  tells  a  story,  apropos  of  the  Great  Seal, 
illustrative  of  the  good  sense,  and  at  the  same  time  of  the 
humour  of  William  IV.  A  dispute  having  arisen  between 


CHARLES   PHILIPS.  367 


Lord  Brougham  and  Lord  Lyndhurst  as  to  their  respective 
rights  to  the  possession  of  the  old  Great  Seal  when  a  new 
one  had  been  made,  the  question  was  referred  to  His 
Majesty,  who,  with  a  sagacious  simplicity  worthy  of  Sancho, 
at  once  settled  the  matter  by  acting  on  the  principle  of 
Solomon's  judgment,  and  recommending  that  it  should  be 
cut  in  two,  and  divided  between  the  claimants.  The  King, 
it  should  be  said,  did  the  thing  handsomely ;  he  sent  an 
order  to  Kundell  and  Bridge  to  prepare  two  fine  silver 
salvers  and  to  fit  one  half  of  the  relic  into  each,  appropria- 
ting one  to  the  actual  Lord  Chancellor  and  the  other  to 
his  predecessor. 

A  new  Great  Seal  having  been  made  when  Lord  Camp- 
bell became  Chancellor,  there  was  on  this  occasion  also  a 
question  as  to  how  the  old  one  should  be  disposed  of,  the 
general  custom  being  to  make  it  the  perquisite  of  the  reign- 
ing Chancellor  whose  predecessor  in  this  case  had  been  Lord 
Chelmsford ;  Lord  Lyndhurst  undertook  to  obtain,  and 
obtained,  Her  Majesty's  consent  to  dividing  the  Seal  as  by 
the  late  monarch,  and  also  to  conforming  to  the  precedent 
His  Majesty  had  introduced  of  having  the  two  halves 
mounted  in  salvers  which  were  ordered  to  be  as  costly  and 
as  well  executed  as  on  the  former  occasion. 

A  celebrated  barrister  of  a  somewhat  later  date  than 
those  I  have  mentioned,  and  whom  I  personally  knew,  was 
John  Adolphus,  Q.C.,  writer  of  Memoirs  of  the  Reign  of  John 
George  III.  He  was  quite  of  the  old  school,  a  handsome,  Q.c. 
courteous,  agreeable  man,  and  his  wife  (Miss  Leycester,  of 
White  Place,  Berks)  a  pleasant,  intelligent,  cultivated  woman, 
but  extraordinarily  plain ;  she  had  the  most  singular  coun- 
tenance I  have  ever  seen,  and  the  profile  was  even  more 
strikingly  singular  than  the  full  face  :  they  had  a  son  and 
daughter,  both  of  marked  intelligence  and  ability.  I  re- 
member once  hearing  Mr.  Adolphus  express  himself  some- 
what strongly  upon  the  course  followed  by  Charles  Philips, 
who  held  a  brief  in  the  cause  of  Courvoisier,  the  murderer 


368  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTURY. 

of  Lord  William  Russell,*  and  who  was  gravely  censured  by 
the  bar  generally  for  the  mode  of  defence  he  adopted,  after 
the  assassin  had  confessed  to  him  his  guilt,  even  admitting 
that  (in  order  that  no  blood  might  be  found  on  his  clothes) 
he  had  approached  his  sleeping  master's  bedside  absolutely 
unclothed,  and  after  the  deed,  had  washed  his  hands  at  the 
sink,  so  that  there  was  no  circumstantial  evidence  to  fix  the 
crime  on  him  any  more  than  on  his  fellow- servant,  who 
would  have  been  inevitably  incriminated,  had  he  been  pro- 
nounced innocent.  Yet  Philips  went  out  of  his  way  to  put 
the  case  to  the  jury  so  as  to  suggest  this  alternative  : 
"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  said  he  solemnly,  by  way  of 
peroration,  "if  you  convict  the  prisoner,  the  blood  of  an 
innocent  man  will  be  upon  your  heads." 

BaronParke,  the  judge  to  whom  Philips,  in  his  embarrass- 
ment, communicated  Courvoisier's  confession,  and  whom 
(being  scarcely  equal  to  the  occasion)  he  consulted  as  to  the 
.course  he  ought  to  adopt,  was  extremely  displeased  at  being 
taken  into  this  confidence :  seeing,  however,  Philips's  per- 
plexity, he  told  him  he  should  have  refused  to  hear  the 
confession  ;  but  that,  whatever  his  feeling,  it  could  make  no 
difference  in  his  conduct,  and  that  he  was  bound  to  defend 
his  client  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 

Philips  was  not  an  ineloquent  speaker,  and  though  there 
was  no  mistake  about  the  brogue,  it  was  of  a  winning  sort, 
and  he  possessed  an  Hibernian  sense  of  humour  which 
came  out  most  favourably  when  in  antagonism  or  in  con- 
versation with  another  counsel  of  his  own  nationality.  He 
and  Serjeant  Murphy, f  being  arcades  ambo,  were  jealous  of 
each  other,  and  often  betrayed  this  weakness. 

*  It  is  said  that  the  shock  produced  upon  Sir  Edwin  Landseer  after  reading  the 
details  of  the  murder  (May  12,  1810)  resulted  in  an  attack  of  insanity.  We  may 
note  as  a  somewhat  curious  coincidence  that  the  motto  borne  by  Lord  William 
Russell  carries  in  it  a  prophetic  intimation  of  fatality — "  Che  sara,  sard."  The 
equivalent  Spanish  proverb  being — "Lo  que  ha  da  ser  no  puede  fallar." 

f  It  was  Serjeant  Murphy  who  suggested  "  Soyez  tranquille  ''  as  the  epitaph  for 
the  wife  of  the  great  clief ;  I  don't  know  to  whom  the  great  chef  himself  was 
indebted  for  "  Peas  to  his  hashes." 


JOHN  ADOLPHUS,   Q.C.  369 

Philips  was  a  family  man,  had  a  handsome  wife  and  two 
good-looking  daughters  ;  when  Louis  Napoleon  was  an  exile 
here,  he  rented  of  Philips  the  house  in  King  Street,  St. 
James's,  on  which  is  still  to  be  seen  a  tablet  recording  his 
residence  there  ;  as  he  occasionally  called  on  his  landlord 
about  matters  connected  with  his  tenancy,  Philips,  like  a 
prudent  father,  used  to  hurry  his  girls  out  of  sight  before 
the  Prince  appeared,  lest  he  should  fall  in  love  with  one — 
or  both.*  Nobody  knew  then  that  Louis  Napoleon's  wife 
would  become  an  Imperatrice,  and  sit  on  the  throne  of 
France. 

John  Adolphus,  to  whom  I  return,  was  a  highly-esteemed 
lawyer,  and  as  popular  in  society  as  at  the  bar.  He  was 
grandson  to  the  physician  of  Frederick  the  Great,  and  was 
born  in  London  in  1768 ;  was  called  to  the  Bar  in  1807,  and 
died  July,  1845.  Besides  inditing  his  historical,  legal,  and 
political  publications,  he  was  still  working  at  the  bar  when 
he  died  aged  within  three  years  of  80. 

Adolphus  was  often  happy  in  his  replies,  and  on  one 
occasion  availed  himself  of  this  facility,  to  take  down 
Scarlett,  the  great  Nisi  Prius  leader,  who  was  much  disliked 
for  indulging  in  the  objectionable  habit  of  bullying  every 
one  in  court.  In  this  case,  Adolphus  and  Scarlett  being  on 
opposite  sides,  the  latter,  not  content  with  domineering 
over  the  court,  turned  to  the  opposing  counsel  and 
asked — 

"  Are  you  aware,  Mr.  Adolphus,  you  are  not  at  the  Old 
Bailey?" 

"I  am,  sir,"  answered  Adolphus  ;  "  there,  it  is  the  Judge 
who  presides,  and  not  the  Counsel." 

Adolphus  was  well  known  as  an  Old  Bailey  Counsel ;  one 
night  passing  through  St.  Giles's  to  shorten  his  way  home, 
he  was  addressed  by  an  old  Irish  woman — 

*  This  paternal  care  is  suggestive  of  the  legend  that  St.  Peter  (on  the  death  of 
King  Louis  I.  of  Bavaria)  called  out  to  St.  Joseph—"  Joseph,  shut  up  the  eleven 
thousand  virgins,  here's  Louis  of  Bavaria  coming  up." 

VOL.  i.  25 


370  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

"  Be  the  powers,  Misther  Adolphus,  an'  is  it  yersilf  as  is 
comin'  through  our  court  to-night  ?  " 

"  Who  told  you  my  name  was  Adolphus  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  The  blessed  Lord  save  ye,  Misther  Adolphus  !  an'  who 
tould  me  !  why  I'd  a  knowed  ye  if  they'd  a  made  ye  into 
soup." 

In  Mr.  Adolphus's  defence  of  Thistlewood  who  (with  a 
number  of  others)  was  arraigned  for  high  treason  in  April, 
1820,  he  is  said  to  have  made  "  one  of  the  fullest,  richest, 
most  powerful,  ingenious,  and  brilliant  speeches  ever 
delivered  in  a  British  Court  of  Justice." 
John  Leyces-  HJS  S0n,  John.  Levcester  Adolphus,  read  early  and 

ter  Adolphns,     .  .          '  •       ,.  ,       /.  •,  • 

Q.c.  industriously  ior  the  bar  :  conscientiousness  was  part  01  ms 

nature ;  he  was  a  precocious  and  promising  youth  and  won 
early  distinction  in  his  profession.* 

When  scarcely  more  than  a  boy,  he  distinguished  himself 
by  his  shrewdness  in  discovering  the  authorship  of  the 
Waverley  novels  (which  for  some  reason  of  his  own,  Scott 
took  great  pains  to  mystify),  and  wrote  an  intelligent 
and  humorous  statement  of  his  reasons  for  his  opinion  in  a 
letter  to  Bishop  Heber,  which  was  published :  the  letter 
having  come  into  Scott's  hands,  he  was  greatly  pleased  with 
it,  and  he  afterwards  noticed  it  very  compliinentarily  in  his 
Preface  to  The  Fortunes  of  Nigel. 

The  question  of  the  unrevealed  authorship  of  Waverley  \ 
was  once  discussed  at  a  public  dinner  at  which  Scott  and 
young  Adolphus  were  both  guests ;  in  the  course  of  the 

*  Adolphus  brought  up  his  son  and  daughter  as  strictly  as  affectionately,  and 
two  more  reliable  characters  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find.  His  daughter, 
afterwards  Mrs.  Henderson,  told  me  that  on  the  occasion  of  the  execution  of  a 
notorious  criminal,  her  brother  who  was  going  to  Guildhall,  was  requested  by  his 
father  to  avoid  the  Old  Bailey.  Shortly  after  the  boy  had  gone  out,  a  friend  called 
and  mentioned  that  a  terrible  disaster  had  happened  opposite  Newgate  prison,  owing 
to  the  pressure  of  the  crowd,  in  the  midst  of  which  several  people  had  been  trampled 
to  death,  and  he  added,  "  I  hope,  Mr.  Adolphus,  Leycester  was  not  in  the  thick  of  it." 
"  Thank  you  very  much,"  replied  the  father,  with  perfect  calmness ;  "  I  thought 
something  of  the  kind  might  happen  and  I  told  him  to  go  another  way." 

f  Wilson,  the  Scottish  ballad-singer,  at  that  time  a  compositor,  was  in  the  secret, 
from  the  first. 


WALTER   SCOTT  AS   "AUTHOR   OF   WAVERLEY."     371 

conversation,  the  latter,  who  had  remained  modestly  silent, 
was  asked  his  opinion,  and  replied  he  could  not  think  the 
author  could  be  any  other  than  Walter  Scott.  After  the 
dinner,  Scott  took  the  young  man  aside,  and  while  lauding 
his  acumen  told  him  he  had  very  important  reasons  for 
wishing  not  to  disclose  the  fact  at  that  time,  and  therefore 
begged  he  would  help  him  to  keep  the  secret  for  the  present. 
After  this  incident  the  two  became  fast  friends  till  death 
separated  them. 

I  am  unable  at  this  moment  to  remember  who  is  my 
authority  for  a  very  remarkable  anecdote  on  this  subject  to 
the  effect  that  one  day  Scott  was  dining  with  the  Prince 
Regent,  when  the  latter  proposed  as  a  toast — "  The  author 
of  Waverley"  with  a  meaning  smile  directed  to  his  guest ; 
Scott  met  the  compliment  without  acknowledging  it,  as  the 
time  he  had  fixed  for  declaring  himself  had  not  yet  come, 
and  he  not  only  drank  the  toast,  but  joined  vociferously  in 
the  cheers  which  followed  it,  for  it  seems  he  made  a  great 
point  of  maintaining  his  incognito. 

Rogers  used  to  tell  of  a  certain  dinner  at  Lady  Jersey's  to 
which  he  went  in  company  with  Scott.  Sheridan  was  of 
the  party  and  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  ask 
Scott,  point  blank,  whether  he  did  or  did  not  write  Waverley, 
to  which  Scott  replied,  unhesitatingly,  "  On  my  honour,  I 
did  not."  No  explanation  appears  ever  to  have  been  given 
of  this  unequivocal  denial  of  what  was  shortly  after  to 
become  a  known  fact.  He  made  the  same  reply  when  the 
question  was  put  to  him  by  the  Prince  Regent.  After  he 
\\as  tf<nie,  the  Prince  said — "I  know  he  has  told  me  a  lie, 
but  I  hope  he  won't  confess  it,  at  least,  during  my  lifetime." 

I  subjoin  a  copy  of  a  rare  and  interesting  portrait  I 
happen  to  have  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  at  five  years  old.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Leycester  Adolphus  used  often  to  stay  at  Abbots- 
ford.  During  one  of  their  journeys  thitherward  they  met 
Hogg,*  the  Ettrick  Shepherd,  who,  on  parting  with  them, 

*  Hogg  died  in  1835. 


372 


GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTUEY. 


gave  Mr.  Adolphus  a  stout  oak  walking-stick  by  way  of  a 
souvenir,  adding  jocosely — "  May-be  it'll  serve  to  keep  your 
wife  in  order." 

While  at  Abbotsford,  Adolphus  showed  the  celebrated 
shepherd's  parting  gift  to  Sir  Walter  and  also  repeated  the 
parting  recommendation. 

"  Ah  !  '  said  Sir  Walter,  "  if  ye  want  a  wife-beating 
stick  I'll  give  ye  a  better  one  for  that  purpose  ;  "  and  he 
produced  a  somewhat  massive  club,  exceedingly  formidable 
in  form  and  weight. 


-...     •   ...  .  - 

WALTER  SCOTT,  AS  A  CHILD. 

"  I'll  take  your  gift,  Sir  Walter,"  said  Adolphus,  "but  I 
won't  promise  to  employ  it  as  you  suggest." 

On  their  return  to  London,  the  two  sticks  were  fixed  one 
above  the  other  on  the  dining-room  wall,  where  I  saw  them 
not  long  ago. 

While  at  Abbotsford,  Mrs.  Adolphus  was  engaged  on 
some  fancy-work  which  consisted  of  shaped-out  pieces  of 
different-coloured  satins  sewn  together  to  make  what  is 
called  "  patchwork  "  ;  when  she  produced  her  work-basket 


MR.  AND  MRS.  LEYCESTER  ADOLPHUS.     373 

in  the  evening,  it  was  a  great  amusement  to  Sir  Walter 
to  sit  beside  her  and  lay  out  the  patterns  according  to  his 
taste. 

John  Leycester  Adolphus  was  the  author  of  a  clever 
parody  in  the  form  of  an  eclogue  called  the  Circuiteers, 
which  was  much  praised  by  Macaulay,  who  declared  it  to 
be  one  of  the  best  imitations  he  had  ever  read  :  he  also, 
after  a  somewhat  extended  tour  in  Spain,  published  a 
spirited  account  of  his  impressions  in  the  form  of  letters. 

I  still  often  call  to  have  a  chat  with  my  aged  friend,  his 
widow,  born  in  1795,  and  now  nearer  one  hundred  than 
ninety.  The  last  time  I  saw  her  (very  recently)  I  found  her 
as  usual  in  possession  of  all  her  faculties,  and  with  a  vivid 
recollection  of  the  events  of  her  early  life.  She  showed  me 
an  ancient  print  on  the  staircase  wall,  representing  the 
gathering  of  the  Volunteer  troops  in  Hyde  Park  to  celebrate 
the  birthday  of  George  III.  on  June  4,  1799 ;  a  detailed 
account  of  this  affair  will  be  found  in  the  Annual  Register 
of  that  date ;  the  print  is  an  interesting  relic,  showing, 
together  with  the  engraver's  work,  not  only  the  condition 
and  dimensions  of  the  Park  at  that  time,  but  the  uniforms 
and  accoutrements  of  the  troops.  The  day  was  a  very 
unfavourable  one  as  regards  weather,  and  the  men  had  to  sit 
their  horses  under  pelting  rain  from  before  seven  o'clock  a.m., 
at  which  hour  they  arrived  on  the  ground,  till  a  quarter  to 
one,  by  which  time  their  various  evolutions  under  the  spirited 
and  efficient  command  of  General  Dundas,  were  completed, 
and  in  a  style  much  to  His  Majesty's  satisfaction.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Dukes  of  York,  Kent,  Cumberland, 
and  Gloucester  were  present,  and  "  an  immense  multitude 
crowded  the  Park." 

The  longevity  of  Mrs.  Leycester  Adolphus  is  the  more 
noteworthy  that  she  never  takes  wine  or  flesh  meat.  Her 
diet  also  excludes  tea,  and  consists  of  four  tumblers  of  milk 
daily,  with  a  slice  of  cake  or  toasted  bread ;  the  nearest 
approach  to  meat,  is  a  very  small  dish  of  calves'  brains 


374  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

simply  boiled,  and  she  allows  herself  broth  or  soup  once  a 
day.  She  never  sleeps  more  than  two  hours  at  a  time.  Up 
to  three  months  back  she  was  active  in  the  use  of  her  limbs, 
but  getting  a  fall  when  leaving  her  bed,  she  bruised  her  hip, 
shoulder,  and  head,  and  still  feels  the  effects  of  these 
injuries  though  they  are  not  perceptible  to  others. 

Mrs.  Adolphus  still  tells  many  anecdotes  of  the  Court  of 
George  III.,  and  among  them  she  related  to  me  one,  worth 
recording  as  a  curiosity  of  coincidence.  It  appears  that  a 
Hammersmith  tradesman  named  Speer,  and  who  died  at  the 
same  hour  as  the  King,  was  also  born  at  the  same  hour. 
He  chose  to  be  married  at  the  same  time,  but  in  this  of 
course  the  fortuity  does  not  apply. 

On  the  day  on  which  the  King  died,  there  also  died  a  York- 
shire hunting  squire,  by  name  John  Demaine,  aged  110.  His 
greatest  delight  was  the  hunting-field  and  he  chose  always 
to  follow  the  hounds  on  foot.  His  seat  was  West-end,  near 
Frewster,  and  he  became  pretty  well  known,  as  may  be  sup- 
posed, in  that  part  of  the  country.  He  was  able  to  pursue 
his  favourite  exercise  till  the  age  of  105  :  the  only  complaint 
he  ever  made  of  any  obstacle  to  his  accustomed  enjoyment 
was  when  he  reached  100,  and  then  he  discovered  "  a  loss 
of  style  and  agility  (!)  "  in  his  mode  of  leaping  a  gate, 
clearing  a  ditch,  or  taking  a  fence.  What  pigmies  we  are 
in  these  days  !  this  gentleman  who  never  experienced  a, 
single  day's  indisposition  in  his  long  life — if  out  in  bad 
weather,  was  never  known  to  change  his  clothes  however  wet. 
All  men,  however,  of  that  day  were  not  so  constituted,  for 
His  Eoyal  Highness  the  Duke  of  Kent,  who  died  one  week 
before  him,  paid  with  his  life  the  neglect  of  this  precaution, 
and  yet  he  was  only  53,  and  a  man  of  splendid  physique. 
£ord  .  The  most  remarkable  character  at  the  bar  within  my 

Brougham. 

personal  recollection  was,  perhaps,  Lord  Brougham.  I  have 
often  heard  him  speak  at  public  meetings,  for  he  was  by 
no  means  loth  to  make  himself  popular.  He  was  striking 
rather  from  energy  than  grace,  neither  was  there  much 


LORD  BROUGHAM. 


375 


elegance  or  much  imagination  in  his  eloquence  ;  but  his 
delivery  was  impressive,  and  the  vigour  of  his  tone  was  said 
to  be  the  result  of  much  study  and  practice.  His  opponents 
might  well  wince  under  his  sarcasms,  which  it  was  dangerous 
to  provoke,  for  few  public  speakers  were  ever  more  complete 
masters  of  irony.  Hazlitt  affords  some  idea  of  his  moral 
character  when  he  says  "  Brougham  towered  over  his  fellow- 
men  by  the  whole  height  of  the  peerage."  He  also  describes 
him  as  "  a  man  of  inordinate  ambition  and  little  heart."  The 
very  remarkable  facial  peculiarity  indulged  in  by  Lord 


LOBI>  BKOUGHAM. 

Brougham  was  especially  noticeable  wrhen  he  was  speaking, 
and  more  particularly  when  he  was  excited  by  the  nature  of 
his  subject,  the  end  of  his  nose  was  then  seen  to  twist  itself 
about  in  the  wildest  way,  without  affecting  any  other  muscle 
in  his  face. 

Lord  Brougham's  temper  was  very  irascible,  and  more  than 
one  of  Sydney  Smith's  jokes  upon  him  helps  to  show  what 
was  its  reputation  at  the  time.  His  irritability  even  got  the 
better  of  his  politeness  on  occasions,  one  of  which  I  will  relate. 

His  lordship  happened  to  be  in  the  public  reading-room  in 


376  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUKY. 

Edinburgh,  and  having  taken  up  The  Times,  stood  reading 
it — the  whole  sheet  being  opened  and  held  up  before  him. 
A  lady  named  F ,  who  was  busying  herself  very  energeti- 
cally about  the  Temperance  question,  had  happened  to  see 
him  entering  the  room,  and  thinking  the  opportunity  a 
favourable  one  for  obtaining  his  support,  followed  him  in, 
determined  by  some  means  or  other  to  introduce  herself  and 
her  scheme  to  his  notice.  She  accordingly  made  boldly  up 
to  him,  but  finding  no  corresponding  readiness  on  his  side,— 
as  he  took  no  notice  whatever  of  her, — she  ventured  a  timid 
"My  lord!"  My  lord,  however,  having  no  intention  of 
encouraging  these  advances,  turned  on  his  deaf  ear,  pointedly 
pursued  his  occupation,  and,  ignoring  her  approaches, 
continued  to  dodge  them  by  protecting  himself  with  his 
improvised  cegis.  Intimidated  perhaps,  but  not  daunted, 
the  lady  took  another  step  nearer,  cleared  her  throat,  and 
"  my-lorded  "  him  again  in  a  more  distinct  tone.  Brougham, 
however,  continued  to  fasten  on  to  The  Times,  and  not  a 
hint  did  he  allow  to  escape  him  that  he  had  heard  himself 
addressed.  However,  on  her  pertinaciously  attempting  a 
third  invocation,  he  altogether  forgot  his  manners ;  no 
doubt  the  tip  of  his  nose  was  violently  at  work,  for  he 
furiously  crumpled  up  the  whole  of  the  huge  sheet  into  a 
ball,  and  as,  in  her  terror,  she  had  retreated  to  the  furthest 
corner  of  the  room,  he  hurled  it  at  her  with  a  most  ungallant 
display  of  force,  exclaiming,  "  Woman  !  who  gave  you  leave 
to  interfere  with  me  ?  "  He  then  seized  his  hat  and  strode 
from  the  room. 

Brougham  was  too  vain  and  bumptious  to  be  popular,  and 
often  got  snubbed,  yet  there  was  a  tender  side  to  his 
character,  and  I  have  been  told  by  a  connection  of  my  own, 
and  his,  that  he  worshipped  his  afflicted  daughter,  who, 
happily  for  herself,  died  young.  It  was  only  natural  that  a 
case  so  sad  should  be  little  spoken  of  outside  the  immediate 
family  ;  and  the  condition  of  her  health,  which  kept  her  out 
of  society,  was  one  reason  for  his  taking  up  his  abode  at 


THE   MAEQUIS  OF  WELLE SLEY.  377 

Cannes.  As  long  as'he  survived  her,  the  room  she  occupied, 
and  in  which  she  died,  was  called  after  her,  and  was  pre- 
served exactly  as  she  had  left  it.* 

"  Eleanor  "  seems  to  have  been  a  favourite  name  with  Lord 
and  Lady  Brougham.  Their  first  daughter,  who  died  very 
young  in  1820,  before  the  birth  of  the  second,  was  called 
Sarah  Eleanor,  and  the  second,  Eleanor  Louisa  :  the  latter 
died  in  November,  1839,  aged  nineteen.  Her  remains  were 
brought  to  England,  and  were  interred — the  only  one  of  her 
sex — within  the  enclosure  surrounding  the  beautiful  chapel 
of  Lincoln's  Inn,  where,  on  a  mural  tablet,  stands  inscribed 
an  epitaph,  as  elegant  as  touching,  from  the  classic  pen  of 
the  Marquis  Wellesley,  one  of  the  first  scholars  in  Europe,  f 
There  is,  it  will  be  seen,  much  pathos  in  these  lines,  which  I 
transcribe  : — 

"  Blanda  auima  e  cunis  ;  heu  !  longo  exercita  morbo 

Inter  maternas,  heu  !  lacrymasque  patris, 
Quas  risu  lenire  tuo  jucunda  solebas, 

Et  levis  et  proprii  vix  memor  ipsa  mali. 
I,  pete  coelestes  ubi  nulla  est  cura  recessus, 
Et  tibi  sit  nullo  mista  dolore  quies."  J 

*  The  "  Villa  Lord  Brougham  "  is  now  an  hotel,  and,  of  course,  the  privacy  of 
this  room  has  ceased  to  be  respected. 

f  The  early  promise  of  future  distinction  given  by  this  studious  young  nobleman, 
when  a  boy  at  Eton,  astonished  as  nmch  as  it  delighted  his  friends,  and  was  amply 
fulfilled  in  after  years.  Lord  Selborne,  himself  remarkable  for  his  erudition,  says 
of  him  in  a  letter  to  myself,  "  Besides  being  once  Governor- General  of  India,  and 
filling  several  important  public  offices  in  this  country,  he  was  a  first-rate  Latin 
scholar."  When  George  III.  and  his  Queen,  who  delighted  in  visiting  Eton,  went 
there  accompanied  by  several  of  the  young  Princes,  and  attended  by  a  great  train 
of  nobility,  on  the  27th  of  July  1778,  in  order  to  hear  the  speeches  of  the  boys, 
the  Marquis  of  Welle.°ley  particularly  distinguished  himself  by  his  delivery  of  the 
speech  of  Lord  Strafford  when  about  to  be  executed.  So  pathetic  was  his  tone, 
and  so  touching  the  expression  he  gave  to  the  words,  that  the  whole  audience  was 
in  tears. 

I  Thus  paraphrased  by  my  friend,  Mr.  John  W.  Bone  : — 

"  Sweet  child  !  from  thy  first  hours  in  suffering  bred, 
Between  thy  mother's  and  thy  father's  tears, 
How  oft  with  happy  smile,  their  griefs  and  fears 
Thou  soothedst,  cheerful,  on  thy  restless  bed  ! 
Fly  now  to  heaven's  bright  realms  ;  no  care  shall  come, 
Nor  pain,  to  mar  thy  rest — Best  sweetly — there  is  home." 


378  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

The  Marquis,  like  his  brother,  the  great  Duke,  was  not 
without  a  sense  of  humour.  Sir  Walter  Stirling  told  me,  he 
once  heard  him  relate  an  amusing  anecdote  of  Brummel, 
who,  to  mask  his  (very  cogent)  reasons  for  his  retirement  to 
the  coast  of  France,  described  himself  as  "a  bachelor  of 
fashion  passing  his  time  between  London  and  Paris." 

As  I  have  mentioned  the  Beau,  I  may  add  that  he  never 
found  any  facility  for  returning  from  his  exile,  but  grew  so 
prematurely  aged  in  that  refuge  of  roues  to  which  he  had 
resorted,  that  an  acquaintance  meeting  him  there  casually, 
had  some  difficulty  in  recognizing  him.  Some  time  before 
his  death  his  mind  gave  way,  and  his  friends  were  compelled 
to  place  him  under  restraint.  There  was,  therefore,  a  melan- 
choly contrast  between  his  earlier  and  later  life ;  this  gaudy 
butterfly  who  had,  at  least  for  a  time,  enjoyed  his  entrees  at 
Court  as  the  boon-companion  of  the  Regent,  and  had  become 
the  standard  of  fashion,  ended  his  days  in  a  madhouse  at 
Caen,  surrounded  by  imaginary  monarchs  and  wearing  a 
strait-waistcoat  ! 

There  are  in  the  diary  of  Sir  William  Knighton  (who  was 
appointed  by  George  IV.  Secretary  to  the  Marquis  on  his 
embassy  to  Spain)  several  mentions  of  that  nobleman  in  his 
private  capacity  ;  unfortunately  these  are  too  discreet,  for 
Knighton  was  no  Bos  well,  and  we  are  only  tantalized  by 
the  very  delicate  sketches  he  gives  of  little  incidents,  which 
might  nevertheless  have  been  indicative  of  character. 
Passing  through  Petersfield,  before  they  crossed  the  Channel, 
Knighton  remarked — "  This  was  the  birthplace  of  Gibbon." 
This  bait,  however,  did  not  draw,  and  all  that  we  learn  is 
that  the  cultivated  scholar  showed  little  enthusiasm  on  the 
matter,  for  "  he  expressed  no  opinion  on  the  great  his- 
torian's character,"  contenting  himself  with  observing  that 
"he  thought  his  style  too  loose  to  be  admired." 

It  was  only  a  short  month  before  the  mournful  event  I 
have  alluded  to  in  Lord  Brougham's  life,  that  occurred  that 
mysterious  incident  of  which  his  contemporaries,  including 


LORD   BROUGHAM.  879 


the  press,  mortified  at  having  been  so  easily  hoaxed,  gave  a 
not  very  creditable  explanation.  His  lordship  had  gone  to 
Brougham  Hall,  Penrith,  where  his  two  friends — Leader  and 
Shafto — were  on  a  visit,  when  on  the  21st  of  October,  1839,  an 
alarming  letter,  signed  and  purporting  to  have  been  written 
by  the  latter,  was  received  by  Mr.  Alfred  Montgomery  in 
London.  It  stated  that  Lord  Brougham  and  the  writer 
wrere  driving  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Penrith,  when  the 
postchaise  was  overturned,  that  the  postilion  fell  under 
the  horse  he  was  riding,  and  had  his  leg  broken,  but 
that  Lord  Brougham  was  thrown  out  and  killed  on  the 
spot. 

The  startling  contents  of  this  letter  were  at  once  com- 
municated to  the  editors  of  the  morning  papers,  and  all  but 
The  Times — which,  for  a  long  time  after,  piqued  itself  on 
its  discernment — published  the  full  details  in  large  print, 
with  suitable  comments  and  biographical  notices.  Mean- 
time, Mr.  Shafto,  who  had  never  even  dreamed  of  describing 
an  accident  that  had  never  happened,  was  paralysed  with 
surprise  and  indignation,  and  immediately,  in  a  circular 
to  the  papers,  disclaimed  all  knowledge  of  the  communication 
to  which  his  name  had  been  so  unscrupulously  forged. 
However,  of  course,  some  one  wrote  it,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  suspicion  fixed  itself  on  the  only  individual  at  all 
likely  to  have  ventured  on  this  somewhat  grave  and  most 
mistaken  practical  joke.  Whatever  the  presumption,  doubt 
soon  gave  way  to  certainty,  and  the  identity  of  the  fabri- 
cator, together  with  the  meanness  of  his  probable  motive,, 
seemed  fully  established  in  public  opinion. 

As  for  the  Duke  of  Cambridge,  meeting  Lord  Brougham 
shortly  after,  he  followed  him  round  the  room,  saying,  with 
his  triple  repetition,  half  contemptuously,  half  jocosely, 
"  D—  -  you,  you  dog,  you  wrote  that  letter,  you  know  you 
did." 

D'Orsay  declared  he  had  carefully  compared  the  letter 
attributed  to  Shafto,  with  one  of  Brougham's  to  himself,  and 


380  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

was  convinced  that  the  handwriting,  though  disguised,  was 
identical.  The  very  paper  betrayed  the  secret,  for  it  was  of 
the  same  size  and  shape,  and  had  all  the  same  marks,  leaving 
no  doubt  of  the  fact. 

"  Quern  Deus  vult  perdere,  prius  clementat"- 

cannot  but  be  true  in  this  case,  or  how  could  a  man,  posses- 
sing some  really  rare  and  fine  qualities,  and  with  a  hardly- 
earned  reputation  to  lose,  a  man  of  experience,  a  man  of  the 
world,  and  a  statesman  to  boot,  be  so  utterly  wanting,  if  not 
in  principle,  at  least  in  diplomacy,  as  to  risk  a  fraud,  the 
discovery  of  which,  he  must  have  known,  would  for  ever  de- 
prive him  of  the  esteem  of  honest  men  ! 

Brougham  was  nothiDg  if  not  vain-glorious,  and  never  lost 
an  opportunity  of  drawing  attention  to  himself.  He  was  fond 
of  recalling  the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  history  of  the  Eoyal 
Family,  his  defence  of  the  Queen  at  her  trial,  and  his 
success  in  withholdicg  Princess  Charlotte  from  measures 
to  which  she  was  instigated  by  her  impetuosity.  He  once 
narrated  to  a  friend  of  mine,  when  a  guest  at  Lowther,  that 
singular  scene  in  the  drawing-room  of  Connaught  House, 
the  residence  of  her  mother,  whither  the  young  Princess  had 
fled  in  a  hackney  coach  from  her  "prison  "  in  Spring  Gardens. 
The  man  who  drove  her  had  no  suspicion  of  the  rank  of 
his  fare,  though  she  had  imprudently  promised  him  a  guinea 
to  drive  her  to  Oxford  Street.  At  Cumberland  Gate  he 
asked  for  further  instructions,  and  she  directed  him  to 
Connaught  House.  Arrived  there,  she  asked  the  servants 
if  her  mother  were  at  home,  and  it  was  only  on  their  addres- 
sing her  as  "  Your  Eoyal  Highness  "  that  the  man  discovered 
who  she  was  :  she  then  dismissed  him,  telling  the  servants 
to  give  him  three  guineas,  adding  that  "  he  had  earned 
them." 

The  Princess  of  Wales  was  absent  at  Blackheath,  whither 
a  messenger  was  despatched,  and  one  of  the  household  also 
fetched  Lord  Brougham,  who  arrived  immediately,  and  soon 


LOED  BEOUGHAM  AND   THE   PEINCESS  CHAELOTTE.    381 

after  him,  the  Duke  of  York,  who  had  followed  the  Princess, 
on  her  flight  being  discovered,  for  he  at  once  guessed  whither- 
she  must  have  gone  ;  but  it  was  in  vain  he  tried  to  persuade 
her  to  return  quietly  and  avoid  a  scandal.  This  was  not 
easy,  as  the  Princess  was  in  a  state  of  great  irritation,  the 
grievance  being  the  change  proposed  to  be  made  in  her 
household  and  place  of  residence,  without  consulting  her, 
and  so  far  from  yielding,  she  advanced  to  the  window,, 
declaring  she  would  show  herself  and  appeal  to  the  people. 

Brougham  then  approached,  and  with  his  hand  on  the 
button,  told  the  excited  girl  that  nothing  would  be  easier 
than  to  call  the  mob  to  her  aid,  "  but,"  added  he,  "  after 
that,  Princess,  .  .  .  what  will  happen  ?  " 

The  young  Princess,  child  as  she  was,  understood  at  once 
the  risk  and  responsibility  of  the  measure  she  had  contem- 
plated ;  she  saw  before  her  revolt,  civil  war,  bloodshed,  and 
she  gave  in.  Brougham  was  not  slow  to  take  to  himself  the 
credit  of  her  submission,  and  was  triumphant  when  another 
hackney-coach  having  been  called,  she  consented  to  muffle 
her  face  and  figure,  and  enter  it  with  the  Duke  of  York  and 
himself,  to  drive  back  to  Warwick  House.  Mrs.  Lewis,  her 
sub-governess,  who  had  arrived  in  the  meantime,  followed, 
and  it  was  half-past  three  a.m.,  when  the  Princess  reached 
her  home. 

Brougham  had  contrived  to  put  himself  on  a  footing  of 
no  small  importance  in  the  domestic  squabbles  of  the  Eoyal 
Family ;  but,  if  the  Princess  of  Wales  reckoned  him  and 
Denman  her  friends  and  supporters,  she  had  more  reason  for 
trusting  the  latter.  True,  though  it  may  be,  that  Brougham's 
speeches  and  his  advocacy  generally,  obtained  her  acquittal,, 
the  warmth  of  his  arguments  and  the  zeal  of  his  manner  were 
not  the  outcome  of  any  personal  regard  or  respect.  The 
light  in  which  he  represented  her  was  very  different  from 
that  in  which  he  saw  her,  and  in  society  he  made  no  secret 
of  his  disapproval  of  her  conduct.  He  discerned,  in  a  Royal 
trial,  a  fine  opportunity  for  the  display  of  his  legal  ingenuity 


382  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

and  his  oratorical  powers,  and  it  was  pretty  freely  thought, 
and  even  said,  that  "it  was  not  the  woman  but  the  case 
that  interested  him." 

Among  those  who  were  really  disinterested  friends  of  this 
foolish  and  unfortunate  Princess,  was  Mr.  Perceval,  and  when 
the  sudden  news  of  his  assassination  on  May  16, 1812,  reached 
the  Princess  from  Madame  Haeckle,  during  dinner,  she  was 
perfectly  wild  with  grief  and  consternation.  At  midnight 
she  became  calm  enough  to  send  an  express  to  Mr.  Arbuth- 
not,  but  the  messenger  returned  with  a  full  confirmation  of 
the  report,  adding  a  few  details  and  informing  Her  Eoyal 
Highness  that  the  assassin  was  one  Bellingham,  a  Russia 
merchant,  whose  motive  was  private  vengeance  for  some 
imaginary  wrong,  and  that  he  had  made  no  attempt  to 
.escape.* 

Michael  Angelo  Taylor  f  was  one  of  those  wrho  took  down 
the  depositions  of  the  witnesses  who  were  standing  in  the 
lobby  at  the  moment  when  Bellingham  committed  the 
cowardly  act. 

Macaulay  lauds  to  the  skies  the  grand  and  noble  eloquence 
.and  moral  influence  of  Brougham,  but  only  when  comparing 
him  with  Croker ;  for  he  says,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Macvey 
Napier,  "  Brougham's  absurdities  are  merely  pitiable  while 
he  confines  himself  to  his  pen.  He  is  a  formidable  orator, 
but  a  very  middling  writer,  and  has  never  produced  any- 
thing poorer  than  his  last  pamphlet ;  as  to  his  Political 


••'  Byron  mentions  in  his  diary  having  gone  to  the  Old  Bailey  on  the  day  on 
.which  the  sentence  of  this  miscreant  was  carried  out  : 

"  Went  this  morning,"  he  writes,  "  to  see  Bellingham  launched  into  the  other 
world;  and  this  afternoon  to  see  *  *  *  launched  into  the  country." 

f  He  was  nicknamed  "the  chicken,"  because  he  once  said  "he  always  delivered 
,his  legal  opinions  in  that  House  with  great  humility ;  he  was  young,  and  might 
with  propriety,  call  himself  a  chicken  in  the  profession  of  the  law."  Sheridan,  in  a 
humorous  speech  which  produced  roars  of  laughter,  noticed  the  diffidence  of  Mr. 
Taylor,  connected  with  another  observation  of  his,  that  "  he  should  vote  with  the 
.opposition  because  they  were  in  the  right,  but  in  all  probability  he  should  never 
vote  with  them  again."  Sheridan  asked  whether  this  meant  that  they  would  in 
future  always  be  in  the  wrong. 


BELLINOHAM. 


LORD   GREY  ON  BROUGHAM. 


383 


Philosophy"  he  concludes,  "  I  can't  find  a  soul  who  has 
read  it." 

Lord  Brougham's  attitude  on  the  death  of  George  IV. 
was  cleverly  and  significantly  shown  up  in  one  of  H.  B.'s 
smartest  sketches,  in  which  he  represents  him  as  a  Gheber  The  Gheber. 
worshipping  the  rising  sun,  to  which,  in  giving  the  King's 
likeness,  this  consummate  artist  has  imparted  an  inimitable 
expression  of  alarm  and  mistrust. 


"THE  GHEBER," — BROUGHAM — WILLIAM  IV.     (H.B.) 

On  this  occasion,  Lord  Grey  seemed  to  see  an  excellent 
opportunity  for  overthrowing  the  Ministry,  though  the 
division  on  the  Galway  Bill  was  not  in  itself,  as  he  admits, 
of  sufficient  importance  to  decide  their  tenure  of  office  ;  still 
he  took  occasion  "openly,  and  strongly  to  declare  his  opinion 
that  this  administration  was  not  capable  of  conducting  the 
Government  with  advantage  to  the  country."  In  communi- 
cating this  to  his  correspondent  his  "  dearest  Princess,"  he 
continues  invidiously,  "In  the  house  of  Lords,  at  least,  there 


384  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

are  no  '  battles  of  Waterloo  '  to  be  gained,  and  then  the 
conqueror  in  so  many  battles  appears  in  truth,  a  very  little 
man"  (!).  "I  was  supported,"  he  says,  "by  the  leading 
members  of  all  parties,"  but  he  is  obliged  to  admit,  "the 
majority  against  us  was  large,"  and  then  alluding  to  the 
tone  assumed  by  Brougham  in  the  debate,  he  concludes, 
"I  believe  there  really  might  have  been  a  majority  against 
Ministers,  but  for  the  strange  conduct  of  Brougham,  whom 
I  really  do  believe  to  be  mad." 

Haydon's  testimony,  as  written  in  his  diary,  is  singularly 
corroborative  of  this  view ;  he  said  he  should  never  forget 
the  scenes  he  had  witnessed  in  the  House  of  Lords  when 
Brougham  was  Chancellor  :  his  utter  apathy  to  the  feelings 
of  others  ;  his  inordinate  assumption  of  extraordinary  eleva- 
tion ;  the  restless,  irritable  grossness  of  his  allusions ;  his 
callous  indifference  to  facts,  were  shocking.  Had  he  re- 
mained in  office,  he  would  have  been,  as  Napoleon  said  of 
himself,  "  a  lui  seul,  une  revolution " ;  but  he  was  not 
endured,  and  could  not  be.  "  In  my  conscience,"  he  adds, 
"  I  verily  believe  his  brain  latterly,  was  over-excited." 

In  February,  1838,  Greville  writes  :  "  Brougham  is  co- 
quetting with  the  Tories,  professing  great  respect  and  defer- 
ence for  the  Duke,  but  his  sole  object  is  to  badger  and 
torment  the  Ministry  :  he  can't  even  keep  within  the  limits 
of  civility,  talking  of  'Lord  J.  This,'  and  '  Mr.  Spring  That/ 
and  calls  it  the  Thomson  Government,  choosing  the  name 
of  its  most  insignificant  member :  such  conduct  can  be 
qualified  only  as  undignified  and  contemptible." 

The  Princess  Lieven  disliked  Lord  Brougham ;  so,  of 
course,  therefore  did  Lord  Grey.  Throughout  their  very 
remarkable  correspondence,  it  is  curious  and  amusing  to 
note  that  lady's  policy  and  her  astuteness  in  sustaining  it, 
also  to  follow  her  manoauvres  to  obtain  an  ascendency  over 
the  English  statesman,  and  to  bias  his  mind  against  those 
to  whom  (whether  from  caprice  or  from  political  motives) 
she  had  taken  exception.  The  reader  can  trace  her  fear  of 


SAMUEL    WARREN,    Q.C.  385 

the  iron  Duke,  and  the  antipathy  it  had  engendered  towards 
him  in  her  correspondent's  mind,  together  with  her  anxiety  to 
maintain  that  feeling.  With  an  ingenious  subtlety  worthy  of 
a  better  cause,  she  won  the  Earl  over  to  her  own  views,  till 
at  last  we  find  him  joining,  almost  unconsciously,  in  her 
sneers  at,  and  abuse  of,  the  Duke  and  maligning  him  as  un- 
reservedly as  she  herself :  this  policy  she  followed  with  equal 
success  in  all  matters  of  State. 

Her  manifest  object  throughout  the  correspondence  was 
not  only  to  worm  State  secrets  out  of  the  Minister,  but  to 
direct  his  policy  so  as  to  suit  the  Power  whose  spy  she  was ; 
she  laboured  hard  and  not  altogether  unsuccessfully,  whether 
by  her  adroit  cajoleries,  or  her  covert  menaces  that  she 
would  put  an  end  to  their  intercourse,  to  hoodwink  him 
and  mould  him  to  her  purposes.  It  is  true  that  on  one 
occasion,  perhaps  more,  he  resisted  her  bravely. 

This  intriguing  woman  who  carried  on  her  political  tricks 
by  correspondence  with  her  husband's  mother  in  Russia, 
died  in  January,  1857. 

Samuel  Warren,  Q.C.,  I  remember  meeting  at  dinner  at  Samuel 

7   ^         '  Warren,  Q.C. 

the  house  of  Sir  David  Salomons  in  Great  Cumberland 
Place,  in  January,  1855.  He  gave  the  impression  of  being 
superfluously  self-conscious,  but  though  he  monopolized  to 
a  great  extent  the  attention  of  those  sitting  near  him  of 
whom  I  was  one,  his  conversation  was  not  unamusing.  A 
fashionable  marriage  was  talked  of  and  the  fortune  of  the 
bride,  who  was  heiress  to  £100,000,  being  remarked  upon, 
Warren  observed:  "How  glibly  we  talk  of  £100,000! 
We  seem  to  fancy  we  have  the  tangible  yellow,  golden 
sovereigns  before  us,  but  where  are  they  ?  Who  ever  saw 
a  hundred  thousand  pounds  ?  Who  ever  actually  saw  even 
ten  thousand  ?" 

"  Unless,"  I  answered,  "  it  was  '  Ten  Thousand  a  Year ; ' 
most  of  us  must  have  seen  that."  Warren  seemed  to 
appreciate  this  allusion  to  his  novel  which  had  not  long 
before  appeared,  for  I  heard  him  repeating  it  afterwards 

VOL.  i.  26 


386  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

to  the  ladies,  upstairs ;  but,  alluding  to  his  first  book,  The 
Diary  of  a  late  Physician,  he  told  me  it  was  incredible  how 
much  harm  this  work  had  done  him  in  his  profession. 

Warren  had,  he  informed  me,  been  originally  intended 
for  one  of  the  medical  fraternity,  and  had  pursued  his  studies 
in  that  direction  for  some  time,  but  ultimately  abandoned 
medicine  for  the  bar  :  the  turn  his  mind  had  taken  during 
that  time,  had,  however,  suggested  to  him  to  write  that 
book,  and  the  knowledge  he  had  acquired,  had  enabled 
him  to  handle  the  subject  so  successfully  and  naturally, 
that  for  a  long  time  no  one  suspected  but  what  the  author 
was  a  physician ;  when  therefore  it  was  discovered  he  was 


NATHAN  MEYER  ROTHSCHILD. 

a  barrister,  the  public  imagined — at  least  so  he  said — that 
the  profession  he  was  practising  must  have  been  neglected 
for  the  one  he  had  abandoned. 

N.  M.  Roths-       Among  the  guests  that  day  was  Nathan  Meyer  Eothschild, 
child.  cousin  to  Lady  Salomons,  who  always  pronounced  the  name 

after  the  German  form,  "  Koth-schild."  This  was  the  son  of 
the  Baron  Eothschild,  who,  besides  his  long  succession  of 
prosperous  ventures,  did  such  a  clever  piece  of  business  in 
1815,  adding  thereby  a  mighty  pillar  of  gold  to  the  support 
of  his  colossal  fortune.  It  is  probably  remembered,  how 
deftly  he  chartered  a  private  boat  to  take  him  across  the 


N.   M.   EOTHSCHILD.  387 


Channel,  somewhere  about  the  16th  of  June;  speeding  on 
to  Brussels,  where  he  learnt  particulars  enough  of  the 
critical  event  on  which  the  thoughts  of  all  Europe  were 
concentrated,  and  remained  just  long  enough  to  enable  him 
to  certify  the  important  fact  of  its  issue,  and  then  how 
quickly,  how  deliberately,  how  unostentatiously  he  returned, 
and  shuffling  along  to  the  City,  took  up  his  wonted  place  in 
the  great  temple  of  Mammon.  There  he  assumed  an  atti- 
tude of  profound  dejection  with  an  air  of  meditative  reserve, 
which  seemed  to  repel  all  inquiries  :  a  likely  matter  he  would 
impart  news  sought  by  his  own  mother- wit,  and  secured  at  so 
much  cost,  personal  labour,  and  risk  !  No  ;  all  that  the  "  City 
men  "  could  discover  to  satisfy  their  eagerness  for  direct  infor- 
mation, had  to  be  learnt  from  the  countenance  and  attitude 
of  the  shrewd  and  vigilant  Israelite.  The  Stock  Exchange 
was  puzzled  ;  they  watched,  and  they  scanned ;  they  noted 
his  utter  inactivity  in  the  matter  of  business,  and  they  came 
to  the  inevitable  conclusion,  that  the  English  must  have 
been  defeated,  that  the  irrepressible  Buonaparte  was  ram- 
pant, and  would  infallibly  sooner  or  later  invade  England.* 
Stocks  of  all  descriptions  were  thrown  on  the  market,  there 
was  a  general  panic,  thousands  were  ruined  !  Meantime, 
Baron  Rothschild  had  his  agents  all  over  the  market, 
diligently  buying  up  the  stocks  that  others  in  their 
desperation  were  flinging  away ;  while,  as  for  him,  he  stood 
as  one  paralyzed,  avoiding  any  semblance  of  action  either 
way.  News,-  even  financial  news,  travelled  leisurely  in 
those  days,  and  there  was  plenty  of  time  for  this  master  of 
the  money-making  art  to  build  up  a  fortune  before  the  cry 
of  victory  resounded  through  the  land,  and  when  it  came, 

*  Canning  states,  that  after  Napoleon  had  escaped  from  Elba,  he  once  saw 
George  III.  amusing  himself  by  first  thrusting  his  hand  through  the  cuff  of  a  wide 
sleeve  he  wore,  giving  it  a  fillip  with  the  other  hand  and  drawing  it  in  again,  then 
smartly  reproducing  it  and  saying,  "That's  Boney  ;  send  him  back  as  often  as  you 
like,  he  always  comes  up  again."  It  was  only  after  this  scourge  of  Europe  was 
securely  netted  at  St.  Helena,  that  the  world  began  to  feel  itself  emancipated 
from  his  restless  attempts. 


388  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

men  of  business  found  they  had  been  "  done."  Yet  no  one 
could  implicate  the  Israelitish  financier — not  a  word  had  he 
spoken :  they  chose  to  draw  their  own  inferences,  and  could 
blame  only  their  own  want  of  shrewdness,  in  not  discovering 
the  little  game  that  had  been  played  off  on  them  by  this 
negative  manoeuvre. 

I  borrow  from  Charles  Greville's  Memoirs  a  very  interest- 
ing account  of  the  mother  of  all  the  Eoth-schilds,  and  her 
dirty  house  in  the  heart  of  the  Juden-gasse  at  Frankfort, 
where  she  always  persisted  in  living,  though  564,000  a  year 
was  allowed  her  by  her  sons,  and  where  she  was  resolved  to 
die.  She  was  very  infirm  at  the  time  Greville  saw  her  (1843), 
and  it  took  two  or  three  maids  and  as  many  stout  livery- 
servants  to  put  her  into  her  carriage. 

Although  at  that  time  the  Jews  might  have  lived  in  any 
part  of  Frankfort,  they  preferred  congregating  as  much  as 
possible  in  their  own  quaint,  picturesque,  and  unclean  old 
quarter  so  that  those  who  walked  through  it,  as  they  met  old 
fellows  with  long  grisly  beards,  tell-tale  gaberdines  and  tall 
black  caps,  looking  like  so  many  Shylocks,  and  women  with 
luxuriant  but  untidy,  black  locks,  dark  eyes  and  skins,  and 
flashing  jewels  on  their  necks,  ears,  and  fingers,  habited  in 
abnormal  and  squalid  costumes — felt  themselves  at  once 
in  a  different  world. 

It  was  in  one  of  these  narrow  gloomy  streets,  that  Charles 
Greville,  observing  before  the  door  of  a  wretched  tenement, 
in  no  way  distinguished  from  the  rest,  "  a  smart  caleclie 
lined  with  blue  silk,  the  door  being  attended  by  a  footman 
in  blue  livery,"  he  waited  a  moment  that  he  might  get  a 
sight  of  its  owner.  Presently  the  door  of  the  house  was 
opened,  and  he  saw  an  old  woman  descending  the  dark  and 
narrow  staircase,  supported  by  a  young  woman,  her  grand- 
daughter— Baroness  Charles  de  Eothschild,  whose  carriage 
was  also  waiting  in  the  street.  A  number  of  the  neighbours 
collected  to  see  the  old  lady :  he  expresses  himself  as 
"  greatly  impressed  by  the  contrast  between  the  squalor  of 


ME.  ROEBUCK,   M.P.  389 

the  dilapidated  locality,  and  the  dresses,  attendants,  and 
equipages  of  these  ladies." 

Another  guest  I  have  frequently  met  at  the  same  table  was  Mr.  Roebuck, 
Roebuck ;  on  one  occasion,  which  I  particularly  remember,  Sheffield, 
—full  of  his  grievances  anent  the  "  Crimean  blunders ; "  loud 
in  his  invectives  against  the  mismanagement  of  which  he 
had   carefully  noted   all  the  details,   and   announcing   the 
protest  he  was  about  to  enunciate  from  his  seat  in  Par- 
liament, demanding  an  official  justification  of  all  the  pro- 
ceedings connected  with  the  war. 

Roebuck's  motion  for  a  committee  of  inquiry,  it  will  be 
remembered,  was  carried  by  an  unexpectedly  large  majority 
of  (I  think)  160,  and  Gladstone's  speech  on  the  occasion  was 
a  very  memorable  one ;  indeed,  the  occasion  itself  was 
memorable  enough  in  its  political  results,  the  Government 
being  completely  beaten,  and  Lord  Aberdeen's  resignation, 
which  was  of  course  inevitable,  being  followed  by  consider- 
able difficulty  and  delay  in  forming  another  Cabinet. 

Chisholm  Anstey  was  also,  during  his  erratic  visits  to  chishoim 
England,  frequently  at  Sir  David's : — a  tall,  handsome,  gentle- 
manly man,  whose  career,  marked  by  considerable  ability, 
was  singularly  chequered.  His  father  was  a  wealthy 
Tasmanian,  and  sent  over  his  son  (born  in  1816)  to  be 
educated  at  Westminster ;  early  in  life  he  was  called  to  the 
Bar  at  the  Middle  Temple.  Vehement  in  all  he  did,  he 
took  up  very  advanced  religious  views  in  the  direction  of 
Catholicism,  and  having  been  received  into  the  Church, 
began  at  once  to  testify  the  most  filial  enthusiasm  in  her 
behalf.  He  obtained  the  Professorship  of  Law  and  Juris- 
prudence at  Prior  Park  College,  and  the  cause  he  had 
at  heart,  and  which  he  took  up  with  all  the  impulsiveness  of 
his  nature,  was  that  of  his  new  co-religionists.  Thinking  he 
could  serve  this  more  efficaciously  in  Parliament  than  at 
the  Bar,  and  resolved  to  support  the  schemes  of  O'Connell 
with  all  his  might,  he  stood,  and  was  elected  in  1850  M.P.  for 
Youghal,  and  soon  took  advantage  of  his  position  to  badger 


390  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

the  Government  of  Lord  Palmerston,  whom  he  made  a  point 
of  opposing  on  every  measure  brought  before  the  House, 
During  the  two  years  he  remained  in  the  House  he  drew 
on  himself  the  obloquy  of  the  majority  of  the  members,  and 
was  continually  shown  up  in  Punch.  In  fact,  he  did  more 
to  damage  than  to  benefit  the  cause  for  which  he  fought, 
and  in  1852  withdrew  from  Parliament, 

In  whatever  position  he  occupied,  Anstey  contrived  to  put 
himself  at  loggerheads  with  every  one  he  had  to  deal  with, 
and  his  only  successes  were  those  he  obtained  at  the  Bar, 
when  out  in  Bombay.  When  appointed  Attorney-General 
at  Hong  Kong,  he  at  once  announced  his  discovery  of  gross 
abuses  throughout  the  Government  there,  which  he  declared 
his  intention  of  radically  reforming.  These  "  reforms,"  how- 
ever, brought  him  into  collision  with  Sir  John  Bo  wring,  who 
obtained  from  the  English  Government,  first  his  suspension, 
and  finally  his  withdrawal,  and  he  returned  to  England 
thoroughly  disgusted  with  China  and  the  Chinese.  I 
remember  his  loud  animadversions  on  the  character  of  that 
people  when  dining  at  our  house  one  day,  and  his  declaring 
that  they  were  "  like  grown-up  babies,  without  any  of  the 
simplicity  or  the  graces  of  childhood." 

After  remaining  some  time  in  England,  where  it  was  in 
vain  he  tried  to  obtain  practice  at  the  Bar,  and  finding  no 
sympathy  in  response  to  his  complaints  of  the  unfairness 
with  which  he  considered  he  had  been  treated  in  China,  nor 
any  redress,  though  he  eloquently  memorialized  the  Duke  of 
Newcastle  on  the  subject,  he  resolved  to  return  to  Bombay, 
where  he  was  warmly  welcomed,  and  resumed  at  once  his 
former  successful  position :  when  he  died  in  1873,  he  was 
universally  and  profoundly  regretted  by  natives  of  all  religious 
denominations  in  that  Presidency. 

A  notorious         Among  other  more  or  less  remarkable  members  of  the 

Q>c-  Bar,  I  once  met  at  dinner  a  well-known  Q.C.  and  M.P., 

popular,  yet  not  respected ;  more  eminent  for  his  ingenuity 

in  brow-beating  a  witness,  his  acumen  in  discerning,  and  his 


A  NOTORIOUS   Q.C.  391 


cleverness  in  seizing  on,  all  the  weak  points  of  his  adver- 
sary's case,  and  his  success  as  a  Counsel  generally,  than  for 
the  scrupulousness  of  his  moral  character.  He  was  courting 
a  wealthy  American  widow,  who  proved  considerably  more 
astute  than  himself,  and  who  was  also  at  this  party. 

She  was  a  stout,  rubicund,  motherly  individual,  but  from 
the  style  of  dress  she  adopted,  seemed  to  consider  herself 
still  on  her  promotion  ;  the  material  she  wore  was  very 
costly,  but  then  there  was  not  much  of  it,  and  its  scanti- 
ness contributed  to  leave  her  charms  somewhat  too  apparent.* 
I  was  told  that  one  gentleman  present  had  been  heard  to 
make  to  another  the  well-known  remark,  stolen  from  Dr. 
Johnson. 

It  would  seem  that  the  Q.C.  in  question  viewed  his  Danae 
through  the  golden  veil  in  which  his  imagination  enveloped 
her,  and  took  no  exception  to  the  indiscreetness  of  her  dress- 
maker :  however,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  he  found 
occasion  to  ask  who  were  those  four  handsome  girls  he  had 
seen  the  day  before,  at  a  concert  under  her  chaperonage. 

"  Four  girls?"  said  the  widow  colouring  ;  but  immediately 
recovering  her  self-possession,  she  added,  "Oh  yes;  I  remem- 
ber, they  are  connections  of  mine  ;  connections  bymarriage" 
The  answer  was  strictly  true,  though  it  may  be  unusual  for 
a  mother  to  describe  her  daughters  in  those  terms.  It  was 
only  after  the  wedding  that  the  deluded  bridegroom  dis- 
covered to  his  cost,  the  true  interpretation  of  this  devious 
reply,  and  that  the  bride  was  by  no  means  as  she  had  led 
him  to  believe,  a  childless  widow.  Howrever,  he  watched 
his  opportunity,  and  if  he  had  been  taken  in,  he  knew  how 
to  make  reprisals,  by  an  eminently  successful  raid  upon  the 
lady's  diamonds;  the  history  of  which,  and  of  his  conviction 
as  the  abstractor,  is  too  notorious  to  need  repetition  here. 

*  Apropos  of  this  style  of  dress,  I  have  heard  of  a  lady,  who  similarly  displayed 
her  charms  at  a  party  where  a  gentleman  inquiring  who  she  was,  was  answered, 
"  Oh  !  that  is  a  Russian  lady  of  distinction."  "  Then,"  rejoined  the  other,  "  she 
must  be  Princess  Shemizoff,  nee  Orloff." 


392  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

Indeed,  this  gentleman's  malpractices  had  brought  011 
him,  before  his  marriage,  the  ignominy  of  being  disbarred, 
and  hence  his  device  of  crossing  the  herring-pond,  which 
however  did  not  serve  him :  whether  his  notoriety  had  pre- 
ceded him,  or  whether  his  subsequent  scandals  were  too 
recklessly  played  off,  I  cannot  say,  but  he  could  make  no 
way  in  the  New  World,  and  his  later  years  practically 
demonstrated  the  result  of  misusing  singularly  brilliant 
gifts,  which  should  have  served  to  make  him  honoured 
and  happy  :  so  there  is  a  moral  to  this  story. 

I  do  not  know  in  what  rank  of  life  the  counsel  in  question 
was  born,  and  possibly  he  may  have  risen  from  the  ranks, 
but  I  have  in  my  note-book  an  extract  (the  source  of  which 
I  am  sorry  is  not  given),  to  the  effect  that— 

"  Many  years  ago  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas  refused  to 
hear  an  affidavit  read,  because  the  barrister  therein  named, 
had  not  the  addition  of '  Esquire  '  to  his  name." 

This  seems  strange  at  the  present  day,  when  no  one, 
however  disqualified,  hesitates  to  appropriate  that  "  addi- 
tion," and  in  a  barrister's  case  it  is  not  needed,  as  lie  is 
entitled  ipso  facto  to  style  himself  "Esquire."  Perhaps 
these  punctilious  gentlemen  required  that  he  should  start 
with  the  title  as  a  qualification,  and  not  merely  acquire  it 
after  being  called. 

Serjeant  Serjeant  Merewether  had  merriment  in  his  character  as 

ler'  well  as  in  his  name,  and  had  his  wits  about  him  in  court : 
few  could  be  readier  with  a  smart  answer  whenever  there 
was  an  opening  for  it.  Being  once  engaged  in  a  parlia- 
mentary case  with  Lord  —  -  the  latter,  remarkable  for  the 
brusquerie  of  his  manner,  not  to  call  it  by  a  stronger  name  ; 
and  seeking  to  justify  himself  for  having  contradicted  a 
statement  made  by  the  learned  Serjeant,  said  in  a  tone 
which  betrayed  his  dissatisfaction  : 

"  Pass  me  that  bag,  and  I  will  show  you." 

"  Bag  !     What  bag  ?  "  asked  the  Serjeant. 

"  Why,  the  one  with  the  ]etters  on  it." 


CAPTAIN  HANS  BUSK.  393 

"  What  letters  ?  " 

"  The  letters  E.  B.  D.  Can't  you  see  them?  "  said  his 
lordship,  impatiently. 

"  E.  B.  D. !  "  repeated  the  Serjeant,  who  appears  to  have 
been  somewhat  irritated;  for  he  added,  sotto  voce,  "  U.B.D  /" 

A  man  of  mark  among  social  and  literary  celebrities  of  Captain  Hans 
recent  years  was  Captain  Hans  Busk,  barrister  of  the 
Middle  Temple.  He  was  educated  at  King's  College, 
London,  and  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  and  had  honorary 
degrees  conferred  on  him  by  both  Oxford  and  Cambridge. 
His  military  and  political  ideas  led  to  his  practical  con- 
sideration of  a  subject  of  vast  consequence  to  the  country 
—the  establishment  of  a  Volunteer  force  ;  and,  while  still  an 
undergraduate,  he  discussed  this  measure  with  Lord  Mel- 
bourne, who  manifested  no  sympathy  with  it,  contenting 
himself  with  pointing  out  the  danger  of  putting  arms  in  the 
hands  of  the  people ;  but,  a  short  time  later,  Captain  Busk 
having  conferred  on  the  matter  with  the  Prince  Consort, 
His  Eoyal  Highness  immediately  saw  the  value  and  import- 
ance of  such  a  movement,  and  in  1858  the  Victoria  Rifle 
corps — the  only  then  surviving  Volunteer  force  since  1803 — 
was  reorganized  by  the  help  of  Hans  Busk  under  the  auspices 
of  His  Eoyal  Highness  :  the  second  Duke  of  Wellington  also 
took  much  interest  in  this  great  national  cause,  and  Captain 
Busk  often  visited  him  at  Strathfieldsaye,  where  he  had 
opportunities  of  observing  the  Duke's  character,  and  found 
every  reason  to  admire  and  esteem  him.  By  lecturing  all 
over  the  country  and  forming  rifle  clubs,  Captain  Busk 
created  a  wide  interest  in  the  movement,  which  in  the  course 
of  a  few  years  was,  as  we  know,  enthusiastically  taken  up. 

Captain  Busk  had  a  fine  commanding  presence,  and  was 
very  popular  in  society  ;  for,  if  his  demeanour  was  grave 
and  dignified,  his  conversation  was  lighted  up  with  flashes 
of  humour  which  took  people  by  surprise,  and  his  sense  of 
humour  was  as  remarkable  in  his  writings  as  in  his  speech : 
by  a  singular  fatality  he  lived  to  survive  all  the  men  of 


394  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

his  year  at  Cambridge,  with  whom  he  had  maintained  close 
mutual  friendships.  Of  unusually  versatile  genius,  highly 
accomplished,  a  scholar  and  a  linguist,  his  artistic  tastes  and 
capabilities  were  of  no  mean  order,  and  his  pursuit  of 
astronomy  led  him  to  produce  an  interesting  globe  of  the 
planet  Mars. 

In  his  literary  capacity  he  started  the  New  Quarterly 
Review,  which,  as  long  as  he  had  time  to  edit  it,  ranked 
among  first-class  periodicals  ;  but  his  subsequent  publications 
connected  with  the  Volunteer  service  are  extensively  known, 
and  among  these  The  Handbook  for  Hi/the;  The  Rifle,  and 
How  to  Use  It;  The  Rifleman's  Manual ;  Rifle  Volunteers 
and  How  to  Drill  Them ;  and  Tabular  Arrangement  of  Com- 
pany Drill,  have  not  only  been  widely  admired  for  their 
mastery  of  the  subject,  and  valued  for  the  clearly-expressed 
and  practical  instruction  they  convey,  but  have  passed  into 
the  category  of  military  text-books.  Of  his  active  and  ener- 
getic promotion  of  the  Life-Ship  Service  we  can  scarcely 
think  too  highly  :  with  a  view  to  the  efficacy  of  this  humani- 
tarian scheme,  he  planned  and  built  a  model  lifeship  which 
was  not  completed  at  the  time  of  his  death,  and  he  estab- 
lished a  lifeboat  sendee  both  at  Eyde  and  Brixham,  presenting 
to  each  place  a  handsome  and  solidly  constructed  lifeboat. 
Each  of  these  boats  has  been  instrumental  in  saving  life 
on  several  occasions.  His  yacht,  built  under  his  personal 
supervision  (bought  after  his  death  and  re-named  The 
White  Squall),  was  the  first  ship  of  her  calibre  that 
ever  reached  the  Antipodes  by  so  marvellously  quick  a 
passage. 

The  Armies  of  the  World,  and  The  Navies  of  the  World, 
have  attracted  much  attention  from  the  time  he  published 
them,  astonishing  their  readers  by  the  extensive  research 
they  evince,  and  the  mass  of  valuable  information  they  con- 
tain :  while  of  political  works,  such  as  Horcs  Viaticce,  Golden 
Truths,  and  The  Education  Craze,  the  last-named  is  remark- 
able for  its  sagacious  predictions  of  the  results  of  that 


CAPTAIN  HANS  BUSK.  395 


insane,  or,  rather,  insanely-conducted,  movement  which  has 
ended  by  drifting  entirely  away  from  the  original  intention 
of  those  who  started  it.  These  and  other  publications,  as 
well  as  many  papers  contributed  to  periodical  literature, 
were  always  put  forward  in  the  Conservative  interest. 

In  1837  Captain  Busk  filled  the  office  of  High  Sheriff  for 
Radnorshire  ;  in  1859  he  was  appointed  Deputy  Lieutenant 
for  Middlesex,  and  in  1860  accepted  a  captaincy  in  the 
Victoria  Bifl.es.  He  also  sat  on  the  Bench  for  some  years 
at  Clerkenwell.  His  intelligent  labours  on  various  Govern- 
ment Commissions  for  the  disafforesting  of  Haynault,  West- 
wood,  Whittlebury,  the  Isle  of  Man,  &c. ,  were  appreciatively 
recognized  by  his  collaborators,  and  while  they  were  the 
means  of  carrying  out  the  intentions  of  the  Acts,  also 
contributed  to  spare  many  an  historic  monarch  of  the  forest 
to  continue  to  adorn  its  native  land. 

Captain  Busk's  exceptional  qualifications  as  a  gastronome 
and  amphitryon  were  well  known  to  his  friends,  who  readily 
admitted  him  to  be  unrivalled  in  the  art  of  dinner-giving. 
Like  Dr.  Kitchiner,  he  treated  cookery  as  a  science,  and  he 
took  an  active  part  in  the  formation  of  the  School  of 
Cookery. 

For  some  years  towards  the  close  of  his  life,  I  enjoyed  the  Mr.  Joseph 
friendship  of  Mr.  Joseph  Parkes  the  well-known  lawyer  and 
politician  during  the  earlier  half  of  the  Victorian  era.  He 
was  of  the  old  Unitarian  connection,  and  there  was  interest 
in  his  family  antecedents,  an  ancestress — Mary  Parkes, 
having  married  Humble  Ward,  goldsmith  to  Charles  I.  and 
progenitor  of  the  present  Earl  of  Dudley.  Among  docu- 
mentary curios,  he  possessed  two  interesting  old  parchments 
relating  to  family  settlements  of  land  by  his  own  ancestors, 
one  under  Cromwell  which  it  would  require  an  expert  to 
decipher,  the  other  dated  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  and 
emblazoned  with  quaint  heraldic  devices  :  both  are  valuable 
as  showing  the  relative  importance  of  the  yeomanry  class  in 
those  days.  Joseph  Parkes  began  life  as  a  lawyer  in 


396  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

Birmingham,  where  he  met  and  married  the  eldest  grand- 
daughter of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Priestley ;  his  abilities, 
however,  were  of  too  high  an  order  for  him  to  continue 
long  in  provincial  practice,  and  having  many  political  friends 
in  London,  he  ultimately  settled  there.  It  was  he  who 
brought  to  Birmingham  the  news  of  the  passing  of  the 
Reform  Bill,  travelling  all  night  in  Lord  Grey's  carriage. 

Mr.  Parkes  was  one  of  the  party  on  the  Manchester  and 
Liverpool  Eailway  at  the  opening  trip,  and  when  the 
terrible  accident  happened  at  Parkside,  he  was  one  of  the 
group  of  gentlemen  who  picked  up  poor  Huskisson  :  he  kept 
for  years  the  gloves  he  wore  at  the  time,  stained  with  the 
blood  of  this  victim  of  science,  who  was  an  intimate  friend 
of  his  ;  it  was  a  sad  inauguration  of  train  travelling. 

Mr.  Parkes  used  to  relate  an  interesting  detail  of  this 
melancholy  affair,  to  the  effect  that  Huskisson,  having  had 
some  slight  difference  with  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  was 
advised  to  meet  the  Duke  on  the  platform  when  the  train 
stopped,  and  to  make  it  up  with  his  Grace  before  proceeding 
further :  in  the  agitation  of  the  moment,  and  being  inex- 
perienced in  the  sudden  and  dangerous  possibilities  of  railway- 
travelling,  he  took  no  heed  to  an  engine  which  wras  approach- 
ing on  another  line  of  rails,  and  being  thrown  down  by  it, 
received  the  injuries  which  proved  fatal.  A  commemorative 
tablet  recording  the  melancholy  event  was  placed,  and  is, 
I  believe,  still  to  be  seen  on  the  spot  where  the  accident 
took  place  at  Parkside  Junction. 

The  career  of  Mr.  Parkes  as  a  Parliamentary  solicitor 
began  in  1833,  and  in  that  year,  bringing  his  family  to 
London,  he  took  up  his  residence,  in  Great  George  Street, 
Westminster.  Two  extra  converts  were  always  laid  on  the 
dinner-table,  for  he  never  came  home  without  bringing  with 
him,  at  least,  two  Members  from  the  House.  He  was 
intimate  with  a  wide  circle  of  Liberals,  among  whom  were 
Lord  Grey,  Lord  Brougham,  Charles  Villiers,  Roebuck, 
Leader,  and  very  many  others  of  equal  note.  Fifteen  years 


MR.   JOSEPH   PAEKES.  397 

after  settling  in  London  he  was  offered  the  post  of  Taxing- 
Master  in  Chancery,  by  Lord  John  Eussell — another  of  his 
friends — and  retained  it  until  his  death  in  1865.  Among 
his  literary  works  was  an  elaborate  edition  of  Milton, 
manifesting  both  taste  and  scholarly  cultivation,  and  he  left 
an  unfinished  life  of  Sir  Philip  Francis,  which  after  the 
author's  death  was  completed  by  H.  Merivale.  Mr.  Parkes's 
theory  as  to  the  identity  of  the  "  Nominis  umbra"  was  de- 
cidedly in  favour  of  Francis.  He  owned  a  small  collection  of 
good  and  also  interesting  pictures,  some  of  considerable  value : 
among  them  were  two  remarkable  Frescobaldi  portraits,  in 
curious  old  carved  Italian  gilt  frames.  These  were  given  to 
him  by  Luigi  Frescobaldi,  the  husband  of  his  niece,  Anna 
Maria  Parkes :  it  was  in  the  Palazzo  of  this  ancient  and 
noble  Italian  family  that  Milton  stayed  when  at  Florence. 

Mr.  Parkes  was  a  man  of  refined  mind  and  winning 
manners ;  he  both  admired  and  studied  Italian  art,  and  his 
conversation  and  tastes  contributed  to  make  him  very 
popular  in  society ;  even  persons — like  myself — in  disaccord 
with  his  politics,  found  it  impossible  not  to  recognize  the 
integrity  of  his  character,  the  honesty  of  his  principles,  and 
the  solidity  of  his  judgment,  nor  could  any  one  fail  to 
admire  his  literary  ability  and  his  polished  manners. 

His  only  daughter,  so  well  known  before  her  marriage 
with  M.  Belloc,  as  Miss  Bessie  Parkes,  took  an  energetic 
part  in  the  movement  for  the  employment  and  improved 
condition  of  women  of  the  lower  middle  class,  and  edited 
with  credit  and  success  for  some  time  the  Englishwoman's 
Journal.  She  has  also  contributed  largely  and  usefully  to 
periodical  literature,  and  has  published  several  well-known 
works  of  value. 


AMONG   THE  FACULTY. 


Dilectura  Medicus  gnatum  ad  me  misit,  ut  ilium 

Grarnmatices  prirnis  imbuerem  studiis ; 
Verum  ubi  Musa  refert  furias  Pelidis  et  iram  ; 

Norat  et  hunc  versum  qui  solet  inde  cani, 
'  Multas  qui  fortes  animas  sub  Tartara  misit,' 

Nou  ultra  puerum  mittit,  ut  ante,  pater  ; 
Meque  videns  genitor,  '  Tibi  sum  devinctus,  amice, 

Natus  ut  e  vobis  haec  bene  discat,'  ait  ; 
'  Namque  et  ego  multas  animas  sub  Tartara  mitto, 

Sic  mihi  grammatici  nil  opus  est  opera.'  " 

(Epigram  in  Hunter  MS.,  No.  53, 

Cathedral  Library,  Durham.) 

"  A  doctor  sent  his  son  to  me 

To  gain  some  liberal  learning  ; 
But  when  the  lad  had  reached  that  line, 

(Old  Homers  pages  turning), 
Where  '  great  Achilles  countless  souls 

To  Pluto's  realm  did  banish,' 
The  doctor  thought  it  time  his  son 

Should  from  the  schoolroom  vanish  , 
'  Thanks  to  your  care,'  he  kindly  said, 

'  At  last  he  learned  made  is  ; 
Tis  my  turn  now  to  teach  him  how 

To  send  down  souls  to  Hades.'  " 

J.  W.  BONE. 


CHAPTEK  VII. 

AMONG   THE  FACULTY. 

<l  An  ignorant  doctor  is  the  aide-de-camp  of  death." 

ABU  AVICENXA. 

44  En  fait  de  medecine,  nous  sommes  tons  des  aveugles, 
Mais  les  medecins  sont  les  quinzevingte" 

CHAMFOBT. 

"  His  pills  as  thick  as  hand-grenades  they  flew,' 
And  where  they  fell  as  certainly  they  slew." 

ROSCOMMON. 

TjlOKTUNATELY  for  myself,  I  have  had  so  little  to  do 
practically  with  medical  men,  or — dbsit  omen — with 
medical  women,  that  it  is  little  personal  information  I  can 
impart  as  to  bygone  M.D.'s. 

]\Fy  early  recollections  of  a  "  doctor,"  as  such,  are  asso-  Doctors  on 

J  the  Pantiles. 

oiated  with  the  periodical  nursery  visits  of  Mr.  (by  courtesy, 
Dr.)  Pullen,  a  typical  country  practitioner,  who  would  pro- 
bably be  still  remembered,  if  there  were  any  surviving  fre- 
quenters of  Tunbridge  Wells  of  that  date,  as  having  his 
habitat  on  the  Pantiles.  He  was  a  heavy-looking  man,  past 
middle  age,  always  wore  black  clothes  and  a  white  "choker," 
and  used  to  drive  a  gig,  with  a  small  boy  to  hold  the  horse 
when  he  got  down.  To  the  best  of  my  recollection,  his 
countenance  was  the  reverse  of  intelligent,  and  he  made 
himself  obnoxious  to  us,  as  children,  because  he  arbitrarily 
pronounced  against  the  use  of  boiled  milk  as  nursery  diet, 
in  consequence  of  which  we  were  condemned,  even  in 
winter,  to  cold  raw  milk. 

If  I   mention   this   little   matter,  it  is  to  show  up  the 

VOL.  i.  27 


402  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

absurdities  of  medical  opinion ;  because  at  the  present  day 
it  is  the  other  way  up,  and  doctors  forbid  the  consumption 
of  any  milk  that  is  not  boiled. 

"Doctor"  The   medical   responsibilities   of  Tunbridge   Wells  after 

Pullen's  departure  were  shared  between  Dr.  Mayo  and  Mr. 
Prince  ;  the  former  seldom  sent  for,  probably  because  of 
his  fee;  and  the  latter, — styled  "doctor"  by  courtesy,  as- 
before, — took  (perfectly  fair)  advantage  of  the  practice  thus- 
thrown  in  his  way.  Prince  was  rather  below  the  middle 
height,  and  by  no  means  stout,  so  that,  being  quick  and  active, 
he  was  not  inaptly  likened  to  a  parched  pea.  Though  not 
quite  a  youth,  he  was  of  a  younger,  brisker,  more  wideawake 
type  than  his  predecessor  Pullen.  He  was  also  more 
gentlemanly,  and  got  on  much  better,  both  socially  and 
professionally,  with  the  elderly  ladies,  who  formed  so  large 
a  contingent  in  the  society  of  the  place.  Men  being  at  a 
premium,  a  man  whom  it  was  possible  for  them  to  ask  to 
afternoon  tea-fights,  "  smalls-and-earlies,"  little  card-,  and 
gossip-parties,  and  the  other  mild  amusements  in  which 
they  indulged,  was  an  acquisition,  and  thus  Prince  soon 
obtained  an  advantageous  position  in  the  "Wells"  society,, 
as  well  as  in  local  medical  practice ;  it  was,  therefore,  at 
least  partly,  through  favourable  circumstances  that  Prince 
became  facile  princeps  in  this  undisputed  field.  He  was 
clever  enough,  too,  to  make  the  most  of  his  opportunity,, 
and  diplomatically  assumed  the  knowing  air  and  self-reliant 
tone  which  generally  succeed  in  inspiring  a  corresponding 
degree  of  confidence. 

But,  alas  !  for  those  who  put  their  trust  in  princes,  the' 
Prince  of  the  Pantiles,  though  he  reigned  for  some  time,, 
finally  disappeared  in  his  turn,  and  was  succeeded  by  a  Dr. 
Hargreaves,  another  of  the  parched-pea  type,  and  quite  as. 
assumptive  of  importance  and  experience  as  Prince. 

Hargreaves  soon  ingratiated  himself  into  favour,  and 
became  popular  in  "the  Wells."  One  wealthy  old  lady,, 
widow  of  a  large  landed  proprietor  in  the  immediate  neigh- 


DOCTOES  ON   THE   PANTILES.  403 

bourhood,  took  to  him  at  once,  constantly  invited  him  to 
her  house,  and  having  a  morbid  dread  of  being  buried  too 
soon,  chartered  his  services — against  the  time  when  she 
should  be  supposed  defunct — to  cut  off  her  head  before  she 
was  put  into  her  coffin ;  for  this  precautionary  operation  she 
left  him  a  specified  sum  in  her  will.  She  was  a  charming 
old  lady,  and  her  children's  parties — partly  within  doors, 
partly  in  her  grounds — are  among  my  earliest  and  plea- 
santest  recollections.  Sad  to  say,  these  and  their  giver 
came  to  an  end  one  day,  and  she  went  where  good  old 
ladies  go ! 

Now,  let  testators  and  testatrixes  note  that  the  law  knows 
much  better  than  they,  what  they  themselves  want,  and 
although  (happily,  perhaps,  for  her)  the  old  lady  went  out 
of  the  world  in  peaceful  confidence  that  Mr.  Hargreaves 
would  decapitate  her  according  to  their  mutual  understand- 
ing, the  law  interposed,  and  said  the  thing  could  not  be 
done.  I  will  not  positively  assert  how  the  matter  was 
compromised,  but  I  think  the  law  conceded  the  tip  of  the 
little  finger,  and  this  probably  answered  all  the  purpose. 

A  representative  physician  of  the  past,  tolerably  well  Dr.  Samuel 
known  in  London,  and  our  family-doctor,  was  Dr.  Samuel 
Merriman — too  dignified  to  be  a  merry  man  in  any  other 
sense,  though,  to  do  him  justice,  he  was  always  cheerful 
and  pleasant.  He  figures  in  my  recollection  as  "  one  of 
the  olden  time,"  and  rigidly  maintained  all  the  distinctive 
insignia  of  his  profession — the  gold-rimmed  spectacles  and 
gold-headed  cane*  -the  staff  of  medical  propriety, — the 
traditional  gold  repeater,  with  its  "pulse  dial,"  its  bunch  of 
gold  seals  and  chain  attached ;  and  he  sported  the  white 
tie  and  frilled  shirt-front,  as  well  as  the  thin  white  hair, 

*  The  original  intention  of  the  medical  gold-headed  cane  was  to  provide  a  pro- 
tection from  infection ;  the  knob,  which  contained  aromatic  vinegar  being  perforated 
so  that  the  doctor  could  hold  it  to  his  nose  while  at  the  patient's  bedside.  This 
vinegar  was  called  Vinaigre  dcs  quatre  volcurs,  from  the  confession  of  four  mis- 
creants,— who  sacrilegiously  plundered  the  corpses  of  persons  who  died  of  the  plague 


404  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

which  helped  to  make  him  venerable.  You  would  have 
known  him  for  a  doctor  anywhere ;  and  he  drove  about  in 
the  legendary  chariot  and  pair.*  Dr.  Merriman's  manner 
was  as  professional  as  the  rest  of  him ;  it  was  wonderful 
how  accurately  were  adjusted  in  it,  due  proportions  of  "  the 
grave  and  gay,  the  lively  and  severe."  Sir  Henry  Holland 
married  his  daughter,  and  he  and  Sir  Astley  Cooper  were 
occasionally  called  in  for  consultations  at  our  house.  They, 
too,  adhered  to  the  prescribed  conventionalities  of  their 
profession ;  but  Sir  Astley  (probably  thinking  himself  dis- 
tinguished enough  to  mark  out  a  deviation  of  his  own) 
occasionally  manifested  a  sense  of  humour,  though  he  kept 
it  strictly  within  becoming  limits.  He  had  the  advantage 
of  an  imposing  presence  and  of  a  fine  intelligent-looking 
head,  which  had  drawn  to  him  the  notice  of  George  IV., 
who  thought  a  great  deal  of  him ;  and  the  Eoyal  confidence, 
together  with  his  frequentation  of  the  Court,  no  doubt  con- 
tributed to  the  ascendency  he  assumed  among  his  colleagues, 
and  the  importance  attached  to  his  opinion  by  the  public. 
As  a  rule,  he  assumed  a  grave  and  important  air,  and  when 
he  joked,  it  was  with  lofty  condescension. 

at  Marseilles — that  they  had  escaped  contagion  by  covering  their  noses  and  mouths 
with  cloths  saturated  with  aromatic  vinegar.  A  doctor  of  that  day  is  thus  de- 
scribed : — 

"  Physic,  of  old,  her  entry  made 

Beneath  the  immense  full  bottom's  shade, 

While  the  gold  cane,  with  solemn  pride, 

To  each  sagacious  nose  applied, 

Seemed  but  a  necessary-  prop 

To  bear  the  weight  of  wig  a-top." 

Dr.  Paris  used  to  wonder  why  the  gold-headed  cane  had  become  so  rare,  and  used 
to  say  he  had  seen  b'ut  one,  which  had  originally  belonged  to  a  celebrated  physician 
at  Exeter,  under  James  I.,  and  later  to  Dr.  Wm.  Musgrave  of  Exeter,  at  the  end 
of  the  seventeenth  century.  Physicians'  wigs  came  in  with  Charles  II.  and  lasted 
to  a  late  period  of  George  III.'s  reign,  the  last  who  wore  one,  being  Dr.  Eevell 
Eeynolds,  who  died  1811. 

*  There  is  a  story  of  an  M.D.  who  was  starting  a  new  yellow  chariot,  of  which 
he  was  not  a  little  proud.  Calling  a  friend's  attention  to  it,  he  asked  him  how  he 
liked  the  colour.  "  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  I  saw  you  driving  in  it  the  other  day,  and 
thought  it  looked  very  much  like  a  mustard-pot  with  the  spoon  inside  !  " 


SIR   ASTLEY  COOPEE.  405 


One  day,  when  he  was  at  our  house,  mention  happened  to  sir  Astiey 
be  made  by  some  one  of  a  wonderful  cure  effected  by  a  C 
quack;  "in  fact,  so  wonderful,"  added  the  narrator,  "that 
it  reads  like  the  invention  of  some  penny-a-liner." 

"  Say  penny- a-liar,"  retorted  Sir  Astiey,  irritated  perhaps 
by  the  imputed  success  of  a  pirate  on  the  high  seas  of 
medical  enterprise. 

My  father  had  a  great  opinion  of  Sir  Astley's  ability,  and 
consulted  him  in  preference  to  any  other  medical  man  of 
the  time ;  but  it  was  in  the  daj^s  of  "  bleeding,"  and  Cooper 
seems  to  have  had  frequent  recourse  to  it  as  a  remedy. 
He  once  fetched  him  down  into  Herts  to  attend  one 
of  his  brothers,  who  had  been  thrown  from  a  chaise, 
remaining  insensible  for  several  hours.  Perhaps  this  was  a 
case  for  the  lancet ;  anyway,  Sir  Astiey  immediately  pro- 
duced his,  and  I  am  afraid  to  say  how  many  ounces  of  blood 
he  thought  it  necessary  to  take  ;  but  the  patient  ultimately 
recovered  !  and  lived  forty  or  more  years  after.  The  recovery 
may  have  been  due  to  the  treatment,  or  to  the  resistance  of 
an  excellent  constitution ;  but  whether  as  an  effect  of  the 
concussion,  or  as  a  result  of  the  bleeding,  from  that  time  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  my  uncle  entirely  lost  the  senses  of 
taste  and  smell,  and  could  not  distinguish  between  the  scent 
of  a  rose  and  the  odour  of  an  onion. 

George  IV.  seems  to  have  discovered  the  surgical  pro- 
ficiency of  Sir  Astiey  (or,  as  he  then  was,  Mr.)  Cooper,  and 
kept  his  eye  on  him  ;  for,  on  his  desiring  a  professional 
opinion  as  to  the  safety  of  removing  a  tumour  from  the  crown 
(not  of  England,  but)  of  his  head,  he  sent  for  Cooper  in  pre- 
ference to  any  other  surgeon.  To  that  gentleman's  surprise, 
the  King  said  to  him,  "I  know  you,  Mr.  Cooper;  I  have 
seen  you  in  your  little  chariot." 

After  a  consultation  with  Sir  Everard  Home  and  Brodie, 
for  whom  His  Majesty  had  sent  to  meet  Cooper  at  Windsor, 
it  was  decided  that  the  operation  should  be  deferred.  At 
this,  the  King  was  much  disappointed,  as  the  tumour  was 


406  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTUEY. 

increasing,  and  he  objected  to  its  imsightliness.  This  was 
in  1820,  and  in  the  spring  of  the  following  year  the  King, 
still  anxious  about  the  matter,  sent  Sir  Benjamin  Bloom- 
field  to  bring  Cooper  down  to  Brighton. 

Cooper  slept  at  the  Pavilion,  and  was  startled  to  see  His 
Majesty  come  into  his  room  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
saying,  in  an  impatient  tone, 

"  I  am  now  ready,  and  I  wish  you  to  remove  this  thing 
from  my  head." 

"  Sire,"  answered  the  surgeon,  "  not  for  the  world,  now; 
your  Majesty's  life  is  too  important  to  have  such  a  thing 

done  in  a  corner.  Lady ,"  he  added,  "died of  erysipelas 

after  such  an  operation ;  and  what  would  the  world  say  if 
this  were  to  be  fatal  ?  No  ;  too  much  depends  upon  your 
Majesty's  life  to  suffer  me,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and 
in  a  retired  part  of  the  Pavilion,  to  perform  an  operation 
which,  however  trifling  in  itself,  might  by  possibility  be 
followed  by  fatal  consequences." 

Perhaps  the  surgeon  had  in  his  mind's  eye  the  fatal 
operation  on  another  King's  head ! 

The  King  replied  hastily,  "This  is  the  second  time  I  have 
been  disappointed." 

"Yes,  Sire,"  answered  Cooper.  "  I  am  sorry  for  it ;  but 
I  should  not  choose  to  do  it  unless  Sir  E.  Home,  Mr.  Cline, 
and  Mr.  Brodie  were  present." 

"  Well,"  said  the  King,  "  I  respect  Cline,  and  I  daresay 
he  respects  me,  though  we  do  not  set  our  horses  together  in 
politics." 

"Perhaps  not,  your  Majesty,"  replied  Cooper;  "but 
your  best  policy  will  be  to  have  his  assistance  in  surgery." 

"  Then  I  will  have  it  done  as  soon  as  I  return  to  town," 
said  the  King,  as  he  withdrew. 

On  the  return  of  the  Court  to  London,  Cooper  went  to 
the  levee,  and  the  King  said  to  him,  "  How  do  you  do, 
Cooper?  "  adding,  "Eemember,  next  Tuesday." 

Cooper  seems  to  have  felt  very  nervous  over  the  affair ; 


SIR  ASTLEY  COOPER.  407 

for  he  called  at  once  on  Lord  Liverpool,  and  asked  him  to 
persuade  the  King  to  let  Home  do  the  operation,  alleging 
that,  as  he  was  Sergeant-Surgeon,  it  would  be  according  to 
medical  etiquette.  Lord  Liverpool  said  these  professional 
conventionalities  must  give  way  to  the  King's  preference ; 
but  Cooper,  being  at  this  time  subject  to  sudden  fits  of 
vertigo,  was  apprehensive  of  interruption  to  the  opera- 
tion by  the  possible  supervening  of  an  attack.  Next  day 
Home  informed  him  that  it  was  he  himself  who  was  to  do 
the  operation,  and  it  would  be  on  Wednesday,  when  Hal- 
ford,  Tierney,  Home,  Cline,  and  Brodie  were  to  meet  at 
Carlton  House.  All  was  accordingly  arranged  for  Home  to 
be  the  operator;  when,  the  morning  having  arrived,  and  the 
surgeons  having  all  met,  Halford  was  called  out  of  the 
room,  and  on  returning  told  Cooper  lie  had  been  fixed  on  by 
the  King,  who  immediately  after  entered,  and  before  Cooper 
—who  had  not  even  brought  his  instruments — had  recovered 
from  his  consternation,  the  King  had  shaken  hands  with 
him  and  informed  him  that  lie  was  ready. 

There  was  now  no  time  for  further  discussion,  for  the 
King  immediately  desired  to  know  where  he  was  to  sit. 

After  lancing  the  tumour,  Cooper  proceeded  to  detach  it 
from  the  scalp,  and  "  it  took  up  a  great  deal  of  time  on  the 
whole :  "  the  edges  of  the  wound  were  brought  together, 
and  lint  and  plaister  applied. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  duration  of  the  operation 
was  not  recorded. 

The  King  appears  to  have  borne  it  with  resolution  and 
calmness,  and  when  it  was  finished  asked  how  the  tumour 
was  called.  On  being  told  it  was  a  steatome,  he  remarked, 

"  Well,  I  hope  it  will  stay  at  home  now  I  have  got  rid  of 
it." 

The  Royal  patient  went  on  well  till  the  Saturday  following, 
when  he  came  in  to  the  medical  men  and  complained  of  not 

having   slept   all   night,   adding,  "  I  am   d d  bad  this 

morning,  and  my  head  is  sore  all  over." 


408  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 


Cooper  immediately  apprehended  erysipelas  and  the- 
possible  death  of  the  Eoyal  patient,  especially  as,  after  his 
third  visit  that  day,  the  King  appeared  no  better.  Next, 
morning,  however,  he  found  His  Majestj*  with  his  feet  up  \ 
one  of  them  was  red  with  gout,  but  his  head  had  recovered 
its  normal  condition — an  immense  relief  to  the  operator,  as 
may  readily  be  supposed.  From  this  time  the  wound  healed 
rapidly. 

A  fortnight  after,  the  King  said  to  him,  "  Lord  Liverpool 
has  promised  to  make  you  a  baronet,  but  I  shall  do  it 
myself." 

Besides  this  honour,  the  King  sent  him  a  magnificent 
silver  ej)erg?ie,  designed  by  himself,  and  for  which  he  paid 
five  hundred  guineas. 

Sir  Astley  had  been  in  the  habit  of  passing  the  Sunday— 
i.e.,  from  Saturday  to  Monday — at  his  seat  in  Herts,  but  on 
the  Saturday,  that  followed  the  King's  operation,  being 
the  critical  day,  he  remained  in  town,  always  dreading  the 
appearance  of  erysipelas,  and  was  in  the  act  of  expressing 
his  fears  to  his  nephew,  when  a  hurried  summons  came  from 
Carlton  House  for  him  to  visit  the  King  immediately. 

"  There  !  "  said  he,  in  great  agitation,  "  you  may  depend 
it  is  as  I  apprehended  "  ;  and  immediately  set  off. 

On  his  return  his  nephew  ran  to  meet  him  to  ascertain 
how  matters  stood. 

"  Oh !  a  mere  nothing  ;  he  is  going  on  very  well.  But 
tell  me,  do  you  see  anything  singular  in  my  appearance  ?  ' 

"  Well,"  answered  his  nephew,  "  you  might  as  well  have 
put  on  a  clean  shirt  and  a  white  cravat,  or  at  least  have 
washed  your  hands  before  waiting  on  His  Majesty." 

The  fact  being  that  he  had  performed  a  slight  operation- 
just  before  he  was  called  away,  and  some  blood  had  stained 
the  cuff  of  his  shirt. 

"  God  bless  me,  so  I  ought,"  said  he,  looking  at  himself 
in  the  glass.  "The  King  is  very  particular;  he  was  lying 
on  a  couch  under  a  canopy,  with  a  red  turban  on  his  head, 


SIR   ASTLEY  COOPER. 


and  after  looking  at  me  I  saw  displeasure  in  his  face  ;  this- 
accounts  for  it." 

Sir  Astley  was  fond  of  occasionally  shortening  a  long 
evening,  when  in  the  country,  by  playing  at  whist,  but  he 
never  consciously  joined  any  table  where  the  points  were- 
higher  than  a  shilling. 

His  nephew  used  to  relate  that  "  one  night,  when  he  was 
at  Hatfield,  he  was  requested  by  the  late  Lady  Salisbury, 
grandmother  of  the  present  Premier  (1891)  to  make  up  four 
in  a  rubber.  Sir  Astley  readily  consented,  and  was  soon 
involved  in  all  its  mysteries,  paying  more  than  usual 
attention,  from  his  knowledge  of  his  partner's  experience, 
Notwithstanding  his  care,  he  lost  seven  points,  for  which 
he  supposed  he  had  forfeited  seven  shillings,  and  was- 
therefore  not  a  little  discomfited  when  told  they  had 
been  playing  half-  guinea  points.  He  was  more  especially 
annoyed  from  the  idea  that  his  ill  success  in  the  game 
might  have  sacrificed  his  partner's  money  as  well  as  his 
own  ;  but  the  Marchioness  most  good-naturedly  attributed 
their  ill-fortune  to  the  badness  of  their  cards,  not  to  Sir 
Astley  's  want  of  skill.  He  could  not,  however,  be  induced 
to  play  another  rubber." 

In  SirAstley's  diary  occurs  the  following  entry  illustrative 
of  his  sentiments  on  gambling  :  — 

"  Wiesbaden  is  like  Spa,  a  place  of  riding  and  walking  in 
the  morning,  dining  at  the  table  d'hote  in  the  middle  of  the 
day,  and  promenading  or  dancing  in  the  evening.  In  all 
these  places  gaining  is  the  great  resource  for  the  idle  ;  but 
it  is  quite  melancholy  and  sickening  to  see  men  throw  away 
their  time  and  their  money  at  Rouge-et-noir  or  Roulette,  with 
at  least  twenty  to  one  against  them,  and  in  some  games 
much  more.  Tossing  up  five-franc  pieces  would  be  a  far 
more  rational  amusement  as,  at  any  rate,  the  chances  are 
equal." 

As  an  instance  of  the  retirement  every  one  of  ITS  must, 
have  noted  in  the  matter  of  medical  treatment,  I  may  men- 


410  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTURY. 

\ 

T 

tion  seeing  a  patient  suffering  under  a  bronchial  attack 
treated  by  Mr.  Aiken,  on  principles  precisely  the  reverse  of 
those  on  which,  thirty  years  before,  the  same  complaint 
was  met  by  Sir  Charles  Clarke  and  Dr.  Granville.  In 
both  cases  the  patient  happened  to  recover,  so  that  one  is 
tempted  to  ask  whether  the  recovery  was  in  spite,  or  in 
•consequence,  of  the  systems  respectively  adopted. 

This  apparent  perversity  of  medical  opinion  is  very 
startling.  How  many  theories  have  we  not  s'een — urged  as 
"vitally  important"  at  one  time,  tabooedj  as  absolutely 
detrimental  a  few  years  later,  and  replaced  by  systems 
•diametrically  opposed  to  them  !  Yet,  accustomed  as  we  are 
to  these  revulsions  in  science  generally,  the  changes  in 
medical  treatment  ought  scarcely  to  surprise  us.  All 
practical  applications  of  science  are  virtually  experiments  ; 
at  the  same  time  it  is  difficult  for  the  survivors  of  friends 
who  were  the  victims  of  such  experiments,  to  remember 
with  calmness,  that  they  stood  by  and  saw  them  hustled 
out  of  the  world  by  a  process  which  they  are  now  told  to 
believe  could  not  but  have  proved  fatal. 

It  has  long  been  the  fashion  to  insert  in  the  announcements 
of  marriages,  the  names  of  the  rev.  gentleman  or  gentlemen 
by  whom  the  indissoluble  knot  was  tied;  how  would  it  be,  if, 
in  the  announcements  of  deceases,  the  names  of  the 
physicians  who  assisted  Death  in  his  work,  were,  in  like 
manner,  stated  ? 

Lady  Holland  once  asked  her  doctor  whether  the  remorse 
medical  men  must  experience,  on  account  of  their  many 
fatal  mistakes,  did  not  far  outweigh  the  satisfaction  procured 
them  by  their  cures. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  "  I  think  it  is  quite  the  reverse.  For 
•example,  I  hope  I  shall  cure  you  a  great  many  times  before 
I  kill  you." 

The  helplessness  of  a  patient  in  the  hands  of  his  doctor 
was  grievously  illustrated  in  the  case  of  Lord  Byron ;  who, 
however,  protested  as  long  as  he  retained  any  power  of 


HELPLESSNESS  OF   PATIENTS.  411 

resistance,  against  what  he  knew  to  be  wrong  treatment.  It 
was  only  when  wearied  out  by  the  opposition  of  those  about 
him,  who  took  it  for  granted  that  the  doctor  must  know 
best,  that  he  unwillingly  yielded. 

The  Duke  of  Kent  was  hurried  out  of  the  world  in  a 
precisely  similar  way,  by  a  similar  ignoramus.  I  heard 
another  pathetic  story  of  this  kind — though  not  a  case  of 
bl'eeding  to  death — from  a  lady  I  once  met  when  travelling. 
She  was  a  materfamilias,  and  having  been  called  suddenly 
to  Eton  to  her  eldest  boy,  taken  with  an  epidemic  that  had 
broken  out  there,  she  left  directions  that  a  "  black  draught  " 
ordered  by  the  apothecary  for  a  younger  child,  should  be 
duly  administered  on  the  following  morning.  As  the  child 
could  not  overcome  his  repugnance  to  the  horrible  compound 
(I  have  an  idea  that  it  has  at  last  become  obsolete),  the 
nurse  appealed  to  his  father,  who,  finding  the  poor  little 
fellow  obdurate  in  his  refusal,  and  believing  it  to  be  his  duty 
to  insist,  had  recourse  to  superior  force,  and  regardless  of 
cries  and  struggles,  succeeded  in  making  him  swallow  the 
"  doctor's  stuff." 

The  effect  was  such  that  a  terrible  suspicion  crossed  the 
distracted  father's  mind,  but  it  was  only  too  late  that  it 
became  a  dreadful  certainty — the  black  draught  was  not 
even  "black  draught;"  the  liquid  he  had  forcibly  poured 
down  his  child's  throat  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  2  oz. 
of  opium,  which  the  druggist's  assistant  had  bottled  up  by 
mistake. 

Though  no  blame  could  attach  to  the  father's  act,  the 
recollection  of  the  scene  and  of  the  dead  child,  whose 
refusal  then  seemed  to  have  been  prophetic,  haunted  the 
unhappy  man  day  and  night,  and  he  survived  but  a  short 
time. 

Reverting  to  the  changes  which  medical  ideas  have  under- 
gone, I  may  mention  having  been  told  by  a  retired  medical 
practitioner,who  ultimately  attained  a  very  extensive  practice, 
that  although  then  eighty-four,  he  retained  a  vivid  remem- 


412  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 


brance  of  an  incident  which  occurred  in  very  early  life,  when  he- 
was  articled  to  a  country  apothecary.  The  latter  was,  one' 
day,  sent  for  in  all  haste  to  attend  "  a  gentleman  who  had 
just  had  an  apoplectic  fit."  The  gig  was  brought  round, 
and  the  young  apprentice  accompanied  his  master,  who, 
of  course,  carried  his  case  of  instruments  in  his  pocket.. 
Arrived  at  the  house,  the  apothecary  proceeded  forthwith  to 
bleed  the  helpless  patient,  desiring  his  young  assistant  to 
keep  his  finger  on  the  pulse,  and  report  its  condition. 

"  Weaker,  sir,"  was  the  first  reply.  A  few  moments  after, 
in  response  to  a  repetition  of  the  inquiry,  he  had  to  answer, 
"  Still  weaker ;  "  next  time  it  was,  "  Considerably  weaker ;  " 
and  at  last,  white  with  terror,  he  gasped  out,  "I  can't  feel 
it  at  all,  sir  !  " 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  the  doctor,  "  I  was  afraid  we  were  too  late  ; 
I  hadn't  time  to  take  enough  blood." 

As  for  the  hapless  widow,  she  was  inconsolable.  "  Only 
to  think,"  said  the  poor  soul,  wringing  her  wrinkled  hands, 
"  if  I'd  only  had  the  sense  to  send  for  you  sooner,  he  might 
have  been  saved  !  " 

As  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  done,  the  doctor  and  his 
assistant  took  their  leave.  The  former  drove  homeward 
with  a  preoccupied  air,  then,  suddenly  turning  to  his  young 
companion  and  pupil  (!)  he  exclaimed,  "D'ye  know  it  strikes 
me,  now,  we  killed  that  man." 

"  Oh,  don't  say  'we,'  sir,  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
killing,  for  killed  he  undoubtedly  was,"  replied  the  youth. 

The  master's  face  assumed  an  irritated  expression,  as  he 

answered  excitedly,  "What   d'ye   mean,  you  young  dog? 

You  had  nothing  to  do  Avith  it  ?     Why,  you  held  the  basin." 

Another  little  affair,  that  happened  to  this  young  apprentice 

while  under  the  same  tuition,  is  equally  significant. 

One  evening,  his  principal  called  to  him,  "  I  say,  just  go 
round  and  have  a  look  at  that  old  fellow  Bates ;  he  hasn't 
got  many  hours  to  live,  so  it's  not  worth  while  to  neglect 
him." 


THE   FACULTY  OF   THE   PAST.  413 


The  youth  went  as  bidden,  and  found  the  patient  very 
feeble.  The  wife  sat  in  tears  beside  the  bed. 

"Ah,  sir,"  said  she,  "I  know  the  doctor  considers  my 
.poor  husband  very  bad ;  do  you  think  there  is  anything  that 
can  be  done  for  him  ?  " 

"  I'm  sorry  to  say  I  don't  see  much  use  in  medicine  in 
this  case  ;  we  must  wait  and  see  what  sort  of  a  night  he  has," 
.answered  the  fledgling,  just  for  the  sake  of  saying  something ; 
{it  is  a  little  way  that  doctors  have). 

"  Might  I  give  him  a  drop  of  port  wine,  sir  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  may  give  him  as  much  as  he  likes  of  that." 

Next  morning,  the  old  apothecary  sent  his  representative 
round  to  see  Bates  again,  and  lo !  to  his  surprise,  Bates  was 
sitting  up  in  bed,  and  welcomed  him  with  a  broad  grin  on 
his  face. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  wife,  now  quite  happy,  "we  begin 
to  think  you're  the  better  doctor  of  the  two  ;  look  how  your 
prescription's  answered." 

"  What !  let  me  see  ;  did  I  prescribe  anything  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  You  told  me  I  was  to  give  him  as  much  port 
wine  as  he  liked,  and  I  went  on  all  through  the  night,  and 
by  three  o'clock  this  morning  he'd  finished  the  bottle,  and 
got  to  sleep." 

Notwithstanding  the  spirit  of  general  unbelief  which 
pervades  the  age,  nothing  is  more  striking  than  the  credulity 
with  which  the  vulgar  (and  also,  perhaps,  even  the  not 
vulgar,  if  sick),  will  cling  to  the  words,  and  even  the  looks 
of  any  man  calling  himself  a  "  doctor,"  partly  because  they 
wish  to  believe  him,  partly  because  they  have  a  lurking 
faith  in  his  infallibility,  partly  because  they  seem  to  shift 
off  some  of  the  responsibility  from  their  own  shoulders. 

Sir  Charles  Wickens  once  remarked, "  There's  no  one  infal- 
lible but  the  Pope  and  the  House  of  Lords,  and  they're  gener- 
ally wrong."  .Medicine  may  be  allowed  to  come  under  this 
description  of  "  infallibility  ;  "  for  it  is  notorious  that  no 
literature  so  speedily  becomes  superannuated  as  that  com- 


414 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


Sir  William 
Knighton. 


Dr.  Baillie. 


prised  in  works  of  science,  and  the  science  of  medicine 
seems,  by  its  own  showing,  to  be  always  widening  the  dis- 
tance between  itself  and  infallibility. 

One  need  not  have  lived  very  long  to  discover  the 
continued  succession  of  diagnoses  and  systems  of  treatment, 
each,  in  its  turn,  destined  speedily  to  become  obsolete.  If, 
therefore,  we  are  right  now,  we  must  have  been  wrong 
before ;  but  no  one  seems  to  think  of  the  unlucky  patients 
on  whom  are  necessarily  practised  the  scientific  experiments 
needed  to  illustrate  and  establish  new  theories.  What, 
indeed,  are  they  but  victims  sacrificed  to  the  "  greatest  good 
of  the  greatest  number  "  ? 

It  is  difficult  to  explain  how  it  happens  that,  although 
according  to  the  views  adopted  in  1890,  the  methods  pursued 
in  1820  must  have  been  so  entirely  wrong  that  the  doctors 
and  nurses  could  only  have  been  industriously  and  conscien- 
tiously employed  in  destroying  their  patients — it  does  not 
appear  that  more  patients  have  been  killed  by  the  early  than 
by  the  successive  subsequent  systems. 

Sir  William  Knighton,  recognized  as  one  of  the  first 
physicians  of  his  day,  and  appointed  Court  physician  under 
George  IV.,  has  remarked,  "It  is  somewhat  strange  that, 
though  in  many  arts  and  sciences  improvement  has  advanced 
in  a  step  of  regular  progression  from  the  first,  in  others  it 
has  kept  no  pace  with  time,  and  we  look  back  to  ancient 
excellence  with  wonder  not  unmixed  with  awe.  Medicine,"" 
he  continues,  "  seems  to  be  one  of  those  ill-fated  arts  whose 
improvement  bears  no  proportion  to  its  antiquity.  This 
is  lamentably  true,  although  anatomy  has  been  better 
illustrated,  the  materia  medico,  enlarged,  and  chirurgy  better 
understood." 

Dr.  Baillie  was  more  naif  still  in  his  admissions — if  a  man 
can  be  called  naif  who,  after  making  his  fortune  out  of  the 
credulity  of  his  patients,  turns  round  and  tells  them  that 
he  "  has  no  faith  whatever  in  medicine."  *  He  was  a  clever 

*  Dr.  Radcliffe  made  on  an  average  twenty  gtuneas  a  day,  or  over  £'7,000  a 


DR.   BAILLIE.  415- 


fellow  though,  was  Dr.  Baillie,  for  he  gulled  not  his  patients 
only,  but  the  profession  itself:  he  made  himself  popular 
with  the  public  generally ;  — with  the  laity  by  working  on  their 
ignorance,  and  with  the  profession  by  humouring  their 
vanity  ;  still,  the  fact  remains  that  when  he  had  realized  a 
handsome  competency,  he  retired,  openly  proclaiming  that 
"medicine  was  humbug." 

Baillie  was  not  singular  in  this.  Tronchin,  a  celebrated 
French  charlatan,  said  to  his  confessor  on  his  deathbed — 
"  Le  crois  a  tout  excepte  a  la  medecine."  And  Laugier,  a 
very  learned  German  physician,  being  reproached  by  a  noble 
patient  for  his  unbelief  in  his  own  art,  could  only  reply — 
"  Credo  Domine,  adjuva  incredulitateni  meam." 

This  same  Dr.  Baillie,  who,  be  it  remembered,  was  always 
dabbling  in  literature,  though  he  knew  but  little  about  it, 
was  one  of  the  trio  who  tried  their  inexperienced  skill  on 
the  malady  of  George  III.  An  epigram  of  the  day  has  sur- 
vived to  record  the  opinion  entertained  of  them  by  their 
contemporaries  : — 

"  The  King  employs  three  doctors  daily, 
Willis,  Heberden,  and  Baillie, 
All  exceeding  skilful  men — 
Baillie,  Willis,  Heberden  ; 
But  doubtful  which  least  sure  to  kill,  is 
Baillie,  Heberden,  or  Willis." 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  suppose  there  are  not  some  splendid 
characters  among  the  Faculty ;  I  could  name  many,  both 
departed  and  living,  who  would  be  an  honour  to  any  profes- 
sion, as  they  were  and  are,  to  humanity ;  at  the  same  time 
there  are  to  be  found  among  the  "fashionable  physician" 


year,  which  rather  increased  than  diminished  up  to  the  end  of  his  career  ;  but  Dr. 
Mead,  his  protege  and  successor  in  public  favour,  made  a  larger  income  still,  and 
Dr.  Warren,  who  died  in  1797,  left  i'150,000. 

Dr.  Baillie  for  many  years  made  from  nine  to  ten  thousand  a  year. 

Sir  H,  Halford,  who  followed  Baillie,  from  that  physician's  death  to  that  of 
"William  IV.,  when  his  attendance  at  Court  terminated,  could  count  on  a  profes- 
sional revenue  of  £11,000. 


416  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

•class,  dead  and  living,  examples  in  sufficient   number    to 
justify  Dr.  Baillie's  very  candid  admission. 

I  was  once  told  by  a  retired  medical  man,  now  dead,  that 
being  called  in  for  a  consultation  with  two  of  his  colleagues, 
he,  and  the  one  who  arrived  first,  waited  some  little  time  for 
the  third — a  great  favourite  with  the  ladies,  and  who  after 
being  up  all  night  with  one  lady  patient,  had  been  sent  for 
to  Brighton  by  another  : — this  latter,  though  she  had  really 
no  serious  ailment,  never  would  see  any  other  doctor. 

At  last  he  arrived,  jaded  and  worn  out,  though  with  half- 
a-dozen  other  consultations  before  him  for  the  day.  After 
they  had  gone  into  the  case,  and  had  withdrawn  to  exchange 
views  in  private,  he  threw  himself  on  a  sofa  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  seemingly  incapable  of  commanding  his 
ideas ;  however,  it  was  necessary  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion, 
more  especially  as  he  at  last  pulled  out  his  watch  and 
looked  at  it  with  a — "  Bless  my  soul !  "  which  brought  him 
suddenly  to  his  feet,  meaning  that  he  was  already  due 
elsewhere. 

His  brother  doctors  appealed  to  him  :  "  Well !  "  said  he, 
"  what  can  you  do  in  such  a  case  ?  "  and  as  he  rose  to  leave, 
he  threw  out — "  Change  the  colour  of  the  medicine." 

A  foreign  medico  who  contrived  to  get  into  high  repute  in 
England,  having  been  called  to  a  consultation  at  Chiswick, 
inquired  of  the  other  physician,  an  acquaintance  of  my  own, 
"  How  many  mile  can  we  reckon  de  distance  from  London  ?  " 
the  inquirer  having  an  eye  to  the  guinea-a-mile  allowance.* 

It  has  always  been  the  prerogative  of  romancists,  poets, 
.and  dramatists  to  criticise  medicine  more  or  less  severely. 
Moliere  scourged  the  apothecaries  of  his  day  with  a  vigorous, 

*  The  following  instances  of  travelling-fees  may  be  interesting  to  the  reader  : — 
Dr.  Radcliffe,  for  going  to  Namur  in  1605  to  attend  Lord  Albemarle,  with  whom 

he  remained  a  week,  received  from  William  IV.  £1,200,  and  from  the  noble  patient 

himself  400  guineas  and  a  diamond  ring. 

Dr.  Dimsdale  (founder  of  a  well-known  Bank  in  Cornhill,  and  celebrated  for  his 

treatment  of  small-pox  and  method  of  inoculating)  was  called  to  St.  Petersburg  in 

1768  by  the  Empress  Catherine  ;  and  for  his  successful  inoculation  of  that  Princess 


WITS  AND  DOCTOES.  417 


but  not  too  severe   a  pen  :  .  .  .  .  and  Cervantes !  .  .  .  . 
and  Le  Sage  !  and  how  many  others  ? 

We  must,  however,  remember  that,  though  the  doctors  of 
that  day  were — as  a  rule — grossly  ignorant,  they  recklessly 
and  presumptuously  dealt  with  life  and  death  with  a  degree 
of  assurance  which  the  profoundest  knowledge  alone  could 
have  justified,  and  the  public  seemed  to  have  been  too  ready 
to  believe  that  the  jargon  with  which  they  were  hoodwinked, 
was  the  outcome  and  the  indication  of  hard  study  and 
skilled  experience. 

Bulwer  had  his  jokes  about  the  Faculty  ;  writing  to  Lady 
Blessington  in  1835  he  says  : — 

"  I  am  miserably  ill  to-day,  and  have  sent  for  the  '  leech,' 
as  the  poets  call  the  doctor  :  why,  I  don't  know,  unless  that 
when  he  once  fastens  on  us  we  can't  shake  him  off  till  he 
has  got  enough  of  our  substance  !  "  He  goes  on — "  I 
suspect  the  epidemic  mystery, — the  influenza, — to  be  mine 
enemy  on  this  occasion,  and  to  add  to  my  misfortune,  while 
I  am  dying  to  go  to  bed,  I  am  obliged  to  go  to  the  House. 
After  all,  life  is  a  troublesome  business,  and  I  often  long  to 
shut  up  shop  and  retire  from  the  profession." 

Byron  did  not  spare  the  doctors,  nor  alas  !  did  they  spare 
him.  When  attacked  by  a  fever  in  his  youth,  he  had  abso- 
lutely refused  to  admit  a  physician,  and  taking  his  cure  into 
his  own  hands,  was  able  afterwards  to  reply  to  those  who 
asked  him  how  he  recovered,  that  it  was  "  by  the  blessing 
of  barley-water  and  the  absence  of  doctors."  Lamentable, 
indeed,  is  it  that  he  was  not  equally  firm  when  the 
leeches — no  figure  of  speech  in  this  sad  case — to  whom  he 
reluctantly  gave  place,  deprived  the  world  of  a  genius  so 
unique  that  the  gods  have  never  vouchsafed  us  his  like. 

«,nd  the  Grand  Duke,  her  son,  was  rewarded  with  the  rank  of  Baron  of  the  Empire, 
•Councillor  of  State,  Physician  to  the  Empress,  and  a  pension  of  1,200  roubles. 

Dr.  Granville,  for  a  journey  to  St.  Petersburg  in  the  early  part  of  the  century, 
•received  i'1,000  and  travelling  expenses. 

A  well-known  popular  specialist  of  the  present  day,  Dr. ,  got,  on  two  occa- 
sions, 1,000  guineas  for  going  to  Pau,  and  a  fee  of  1,500  guineas  for  going  to 
Pitlochrie  and  remaining  a  week  with  his  patient. 

VOL.  i.  28 


418  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

ami  Andre  There  is  extant,  a  curious  and  voluminous  correspondence,. 

Faiconnet.  not  intended  for  publication,  which  passed  between  two> 
famous  French  doctors  of  Moliere's  time,  Gui  Patin  and 
Andre  Faiconnet,  the  former  being  a  confirmed  Sangrado,. 
and  the  latter  as  devout  and  conscientious  in  his  belief  in  the 
efficacy  of  antimony  as  a  panacea,  as  was  Bishop  Berkeley,  in 
his  advocacy  of  tar- water. 

Dr.  Eeid  was  not  a  sharer  in  Patin' s  mania,  for  he  declared 
that  the  lancet  had  caused  more  slaughter  than  the  lance  : 
a  story  is  told  of  a  French  physician  entirely  opposed  to  the 
blood-letting  system  who,  nevertheless,  fell  a  victim  to  its 
application  to  himself.  He  fell  down  in  a  fit,  and  a 
colleague  having  been  called  in,  he  was  at  once  bled.  On 
partially  recovering  consciousness,  he  fancied  himself  at  the 
bedside  of  a  patient,  and  seizing  his  own  wrist,  proceeded  to 
feel  the  pulse — Suddenly  he  started,  aghast, — "  Good  God  !  " 
he  exclaimed,  "  I  have  been  called  in  too  late  !  the  patient 
has  been  bled  !  he  is  a  lost  man."  His  verdict  proved  only 
too  true.  Bleeding,  as  a  remedy  a  tout  propos,  and  especially 
when  a  doctor  found  himself  out  of  his  depth,  prevailed  to  a 
surprising  extent,  up  to  an  almost  recent  period ;  for  there 
long  survived  some  old-fashioned  people  of  the  blood-letting 
school,  who  could  not  be  persuaded  of  its  fallacy — to  use  no 
stronger  term.  Without  being  as  rampant  in  its  favour  as. 
the  aforesaid  Gui  Patin,  who  must  have  thereby  slain  his 
thousands,  the  advocates  of  the  lancet,  the  leech,  or  the 
cupping-glasses  were  formidably  numerous  and  fearfully 
determined,  and  some  of  them  were  deterred  by  no  consider- 
ation for  age  or  feebleness.* 

Old  Squire  Waterton,  of  whose  very  persistent  medical 
convictions  I  shall  have  to  speak  in  a  separate  work,  had  his 
own  notions  on  this  subject,  and  always  treated  (he  used  to< 
say  cured)  a  cough  by  this  means  !  Not  long  before  his  death,. 

*  Sir  H.  Sloane  boasted  be  bad  once  bled  a  patient  five  times  in  tbe  foot  and 
arm  in  twelve  bours  :  but  Dr.  Cbeyne  was  opposed  to  bim  in  tbis  and  many  otber- 
details  of  bis  treatment. 


THE   BLEEDING   MANIA.  419 


and  after  he  was  eighty,  he  got  an  obstinate  cough  for  which 
he  said  he  knew  there  was  only  one  remedy ;  so,  one  fine 
morning,  he  bled  himself  to  a  considerable  extent.  It  was 
an  alarming  expedient  for  a  subject  already  advanced  in  life 
and  whose  complexion  was  remarkably  bloodless.  Provok- 
ingly  enough,  it  appeared  to  be  successful,  for  the  cough 
left  him  ;  but  though  this  was  probably  a  coincidence  rather 
than  a  consequence,  the  old  man  became  more  confirmed  in 
his  theory  than  before. 

It  must  be  a  matter  of  serious  consideration  to  all  con- 
scientious medical  men,  whether  they  ought  to  warn  a 
patient  of  approaching  death,  when  they  believe  it 
imminent.  Of  course  this  will  be  more  or  less  a  question 
of  circumstance,  and  there  are  many  patients  so  situated  as 
to  render  it  imperative  to  reveal  to  them  the  wrhole  truth — as 
far  as  the  physician  himself  knows  it.  A  great  difficulty, 
however,  must  always  present  itself,  in  that,  first,  the  physi- 
cian does  not  always  know,  and  secondly,  that  the  imagi- 
nativeness of  the  patient  has  to  be  taken  into  account,  and 
that  according  to  that,  he  either  adds  to,  or  detracts  from,  the 
importance  of  the  doctor's  intimations,  which  thus  become 
of  doubtful  advantage. 

The  deathbed  of  Balzac,  as  described  by  Arsene  Houssaye,  Balzac's 
offers  a  noteworthy  instance  of  the  result  of  too  much  open-  d 
ness  on  the  part  of  the  doctor,  who  cannot  be  sure  of  his 
opinion,  and  may  just  as  well  give  the  poor  patient  the 
benefit  of  the  doubt.     The  scene  is  dramatically  interesting. 
Balzac's   wife  had  succeeded  in  cheering   the   patient    so 
effectually,  that  he  had  become  calm,  and  even  hopeful ; 
but  he  yet  desired  to  arrive  at  the  opinion  of  his  medical 
attendant,  perhaps  because  he  hoped  to  hear    an    official 
confirmation  of  the  view  taken  by  his  wife. 

"  My  dear  doctor,"  said  he,  "you  must  not  treat  me  as 
an  ordinary  patient ;  there  still  remain  so  many  things  that 
I  must  bring  to  a.  conclusion,  that  it  is  absolutely  essential 
I  should  know  my  exact  condition." 


420  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

The  doctor  replied  evasively.  "  Yes,  my  dear  friend,  you 
have  built  up  one  of  the  literary  monuments  of  this  nine- 
teenth century,  but  how  many  statues,  how  many  sculptures 
are  wanting  to  complete  it !  " 

Balzac  entered  into  the  spirit  of  this  metaphorical  reply, 
and  by  the  animation  with  which  he  took  up  the  matter, 
greatly  increased  the  feverishness  of  his  condition. 

"  Doctor,"  he  continued,  "  you  see  then,  how  much  I  need 
to  have  my  life  prolonged,  and  you,  who  are  one  of  the 
princes  of  science,  you  will  tell  me  truthfully,  how  long  you 
can  give  me.  ...  I  am  afraid  I  am  more  seriously  ill  than 
I  thought ;  but  a  man  of  my  stamp  must  not  die  like  an 
every-day  mortal ;  I  owe  some  testamentary  bequest  to  the 
public  ;  let  me  have  time  to  attend  to  that." 

The  doctor  remained  mute. 

"  Come,  doctor,"  said  the  patient  anxiously,  "you  deal 
with  me  as  if  I  were  a  child ;  be  candid  with  me  ;  you 
may  let  me  know  the  worst." 

At  last  the  doctor  spoke.  "Tell  me,"  he  replied,  "how 
long  will  it  take  you  to  accomplish  all  you  have  planned," 
for  he  began  to  fear  that  Balzac  might  have  in  contemplation 
other  and  perhaps  domestic  testamentary  dispositions,  and 
these,  for  the  sake  of  his  wife  and  child,  he  would  not 
prevent  him  from  arranging. 

Balzac  seemed  to  be  making  a  mental  calculation,  and 
then  as  if  moved  by  a  vague  misgiving,  answered  in  an 
inquiring  tone,  "Six  months?"  and  he  fixed  his  eyes 
eagerly  on  the  face  of  the  physician  as  if  he  felt  he  would 
learn  there  his  doom. 

"  Six  months !  six  months ! "  answered  the  man  of 
medicine  with  indiscreet  surprise — the  dying  are  very  quick 
at  catching  an  impression. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "I  see  ;  perhaps  I  ought  to  have  put  it  at 
six  weeks  :  but  I  might  do  much,  if  I  work  night  and  day, 
even  in  six  iveelis" 

The  doctor  shook  his  head  mournfully,  and  Balzac  started 


BALZAC  AND  HIS  DOCTOR.          421 

up  as  if  under  a  sense  of  injury,  for  he  really  seemed  to  have 
brought  himself  to  believe  in  the  power  of  his  physician  to 
shorten  or  prolong  his  life :  the  doctor  does  not  appear  to 
have  taken  alarm  at  the  effect  produced  upon  his  patient  by 
his  reply  and  attitude,  for  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  take 
him  at  his  word  and  to  tell  him  what  he  fully  believed  to  be 
the  truth,  as  frankly  as  he  had  been  asked  it.  Balzac  read 
in  the  doctor's  face  the  gravity  of  his  condition,  but  was 
unwilling  to  be  satisfied  with  merely  inferring  it. 

11 1  see,"  said  he,  at  length,  "  that  I  am  a  lost  man,  but  I 
shall  have  the  courage  to  hear  your  verdict ;  say,  you  give 
me  perhaps  no  more  than  six  days  ?  "  The  doctor  could  not 
find  it  in  his  heart  to  reply,  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes, 
and  he  turned  away  to  hide  them. 

"Well!  "  said  the  sick  man  with  a  deep  sigh,  "  since  it 
must  be  so,  I  will  hurry  the  work ;  I  must  do  it  roughly ; 
my  friends  will  dot  the  i's  :  I  shall  make  time  to  over-run 
my  fifty  volumes ;  I  will  obliterate  all  the  questionable 
passages  and  will  emphasize  the  pages  I  find  good.  Human 
will  can  accomplish  a  great  deal ;  God  created  the  ivorld  in 
six  days  :  I  will  employ  my  six  days  in  giving  an  immortal 
existence  to  the  world  I  have  created. :  I  will  rest  on  the 
seventh  day." 

But  what  a  despairing  expression,  wrhat  a  despairing  sigh 
accompanied  these  broken  phrases  ! 

While  Balzac  had  been  pleading  with  the  physician — 
wrestling  as  it  were  with  death — ten  years  seemed  to  have 
been  added  to  his  age  ;  a  choking  sound  proceeded  from  his 
throat,  and  the  hoarse  efforts  at  utterance  made  by  the 
doctor  in  reply,  equally  failed  to  produce  an  intelligible 
sound. 

"  My  dear  patient,"  at  last  he  contrived  to  say,  while 
attempting  a  faint  smile,  "none  of  us,  you  know  can  reckon 
upon  a  single  hour,  and  there  will  be  many  who  are  now  in 
perfect  health,  who  will  die  before  you, yet;  but  ....  you 
asked  me  for  the  truth,  and  I  feel  bound  to  be  candid  with 


422  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

you  :  you  spoke  of  testamentary  declarations  to  your  public 
....  Well  !  make  them  to-day.  .  .  .  Perhaps  you  have 
other  testamentary  dispositions  to  make  ....  don't  leave 
those  for  to-morrow." 

Balzac  could  not  but  understand  :  he  raised  his  head  and 
exclaimed  with  terror  —  "  I  have  then,  perhaps,  not  six 
hours!"  and  he  fell  back  upon  the  pillow.  The  doctor's 
last  words  had  proved  his  death-blow. 

He,  who  had  once  been  Balzac,  was  already  no  more  ;  he 
spoke  not  again  ;  that  creative  imagination  was  enveloped  in 
the  mists  of  death  ;  that  luminous  spirit  was  passing  into  its 
dark  shadows.  He  had  insisted  on  knowing  the  truth,  and 
the  truth  had  killed  him  before  his  time. 

The  doctor's  name  must  not  be  revealed  ;  he  committed 
a  grave  error  in  unveiling  death,  who  stood  so  near, 


when  he  might  have  yet,  for  awhile,  concealed  his  presence! 

We  should,  perhaps,  not  have  possessed  another  page  of 
this  author's  hand,  but,  had  Balzac  not  heard  his  condem- 
nation, he  might  have  lived  a  few  more  days,  and  he  would 
have  taken  his  journey  into  the  unknown  world  with  the 
illusions  of  a  man  who  falls  asleep  in  the  belief  that  he  will 
awake  again  amid  all  his  familiar  surroundings. 

Mr.  George  Mr.  George  Pollock  the  surgeon,  (nephew  of  General  Sir 
George,  of  Indian  fame)  was  once  attending  a  relative  of 
mine.  "  Well,  Sir  W.,"  said  he,  "  I  think  we  shall  pull  you 
through."  The  patient,  who  knew  better,  turned  to  me,  as 
the  doctor  left  the  room,  and  remarked  —  "  II  se  dit 
chirurgien  ;  tout  de  meme,  *  il  merit  comine  mi  arracheur 
de  dents.'" 

His  death  took  place  that  same  day,  as  the  surgeon  well 
knew  it  would.  However,  we  can  scarcely  condemn  any 
medical  man  for  adopting  this  policy  :  the  too  conscientious 

*  Herondas. 


FAITH    V.   PHYSIC.  423 


physician,  as  we  have  seen,  often  takes  away  the  patient's 
last  chance,  by  his  questionable  candour.  Let  him  but 
read  the  word  "hopeless"  in  the  doctor's  face,  and  how- 
ever brave,  he  is  lost  :  a  dose  of  poison  would  not  be 
more  effectual .  Faith  in  his  medical  attendant  and  faith 
in  his  recovery  are  the  sick  man's  staff,  and  will  often  save 
him  when  "  treatment "  fails :  the  Greatest  Physician  told 
His  patient  in  so  many  words  it  was  "  his  faith  that  made 
him  whole,"  and  every  doctor  who  is  worth  the  extra 
shilling,  to  say  nothing  of  the  gold  coin,  knows  the  power 
of  imagination. 

I  once  knew  a  worthy  man — a  zealous  "  foreign  correspon-  Mr.  c.  u 
dent"  of  the  Morning  Post  iu  its  palmy  days :  he  travelled 
through  Spain  on  behalf  of  that  journal  in  the  time  of  the 
Carlist  disturbances,  and  having  undergone  fatigues,  hard- 
ships, and  even  perils,  as  he  was  fond  of  relating,  he  returned 
in  so  dilapidated  a  condition  that  he  could  get  no  sleep 
without  the  help  of  narcotics. 

After  a  time  his  wife,  alarmed  at  the  probable  results 
of  the  dangerous  habit  he  was  acquiring,  and  convinced  that 
his  return  to  the  repose  and  regularity  of  domestic  life  had 
sufficed  to  enable  him  to  dispense  with  the  artificial  aid, 
proposed  to  him  to  abandon,  or  at  least  to  modify,  his 
recourse  to  it  :  of  course  he  would  not  listen  to  the  prudent 
suggestion,  for  his  imagination  had  completely  over- 
mastered him.  After  another  week  or  two,  she  again  urged 
tlif  reform,  and  obtained  his  consent  to  try  the  effect  of  half 
the  dose ;  but  next  morning,  he  declared  he  had  not  closed 
his  eyes,  and  begged  she  would  not  name  the  subject  again. 
The  following  night  she  made  up  some  bread  pills,  rolled 
them  well  about  in  the  box,  so  as  to  impart  the  usual  flavour 
and  administered  them  in  the  usual  way  ;  no  remark  passed 
on  either  side,  till  about  six  weeks  after,  when  she  thought 
six-  might  safely  inform  him  he  had  been  sleeping  on  Faith 
;ill  that  time ! 

Somewhat  similar  was  the  case  of  a  patient  of  Mr.  Skey's  Mr-  SkeJ- 


424  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

who,  leading  an  idle,  luxurious  life,  had  gradually  drifted  into 
the  hypochondriacal  condition  of  an  obese  malade  imaginaire. 
Every  doctor  knows  how  much  less  accessible  to  treatment 
are  fancied,  than  real,  ailments  ;  all  that  this  poor  lady  wanted 
was  the  tone  he  knew  to  be  attainable  only  by  air,  exercise, 
and  regimen,  but  feeling  it  would  be  worse  than  useless  to- 
inform  her  plainly  of  her  state,  he  recommended  abstinence 
from  some  few  over-indulgences,  but  made  it  a  great  point 
that  she  should,  every  morning  before  breakfast,  drink  one 
glass  of  water  from  St.  Anne's  Well  in  Kensington  Gardens, 
the  powers  of  which,  he  assured  her,  were  quite  unknown 
to  the  general  public,  although  the  source  was  so  accessible. 
About  a  fortnight  after,  he  called  to  learn  how  the  remedy 
was  succeeding,  but  finding  her  in  the  same  low,  nervous 
condition,  he  asked  her  if  she  had  taken  the  prescribed  dose 
regularly  every  day. 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  replied,  "  with  one  exception,  and  that 
day  my  maid  had  a  cold  so  I  couldn't  send  her  for  it." 

So  it  turned  out  that  the  doctor's  ingenious  expedient  had 
entirely  failed  in  its  object,  the  walk,  and  not  the  water, 
being  the  remedy  he  had  relied  on.  No  doubt  this  is  more 
than  half  the  secret  of  all  "  watercures." 

Dr.  Eiiiotson.  I  used  to  meet  Dr.  Elliotson  at  the  house  of  a  common 
friend  with  whom  he  often  dined.  He  was  exceedingly 
unlike  the  typical  M.D. ;  he  had  a  Jewish  cast  of  counte- 
nance ;  and,  in  disaccord  with  the  usage  among  physicians 
he  discarded  the  conventional  accessories  of  costume,  and 
also  wore  a  great  deal  of  hair  on  his  face;  he  was  an  extremely 
agreeable  talker  and  was  very  popular  in  society,  as  (until 
his  secession  from  accepted  medical  principles)  he  had  been, 
in  the  profession.  His  figure  did  not  suggest  the  idea  that 
he  lived  by  the  best  medical  rule,  for  he  was  unusually  stout. 
I)r.  Elliotson's  character  stood  high  for  honesty  and  con- 
scientiousness, but  he  was  decidedly  crotchety.  He  had 
risen  rapidly  in  his  practice,  and  for  a  long  time  was  making 
an  almost  incredibly  large  income,  when  he  abandoned  his 


DE.   ELLIOTSON.  425- 


old  system  of  medicine  and  took  to  mesmerism.  From  the 
time  this  became  known,  by  his  introducing  it  into  his. 
practice,  most  of  his  patients  abandoned  him  one  by  one ; 
and  he  was  of  course  compelled  to  give  up  the  medical 
appointments  he  had  long  held  with  credit  and  honour  as 
well  as  financial  advantage  ;  still,  being  a  man  of  high 
principle,  and,  regarding  as  matter  of  serious  conviction 
what  appeared  to  others  to  be  fads  and  whims,  he  was  con- 
tent to  let  his  position  go,  rather  than  abandon  his  belief. 
Elliotson  was  the  son  of  a  druggist,  and  was  born  in  1791 ; 
he  had  been  educated  at  Edinburgh  and  Cambridge,  but  did 
not  become  an  M.D.  till  1821 :  he  died  in  1868.  Together  with 
much  intelligence,  he  had  a  vast  store  of  energy  and  perse- 
verance, but  was  always  remarkable  for  a  love  of  originality. 
Notwithstanding  this,  he  was  highly  esteemed  by  members 
of  the  profession,  and  his  lectures  on  diseases  of  the  heart 
added  considerably  to  his  reputation  :  he  was  the  first  who 
employed  the  stethoscope,  and  attached  great  importance  to 
its  use. 

After  his  adoption  of  his  new7  ideas  he  used  to  give 
mesmeric  seances  at  his  house  ;  these  were  largely  attended,, 
and  the  usual  experiments  were  exhibited,  but,  if  believed 
in  by  some,  they  wrere  scoffed  at  by  others  ;  he  also  started 
the  Zoixt,  a  mesmeric  monthly,  which  he  continued  for  some 
years.  Dr.  Elliotson's  diagnosis  was  considered  very  careful 
and  correct,  and  as  long  as  he  practised  on  the  normal  prin- 
ciples of  medicine,  his  patients  had  great  confidence  in  his 
perspicacity. 

Dr.  Elliotson  was  what  the  French  callfrileux,  and  had  a 
dread  of  draughts.  One  day  Haydon  the  painter  calling  on 
him,  was  shown  into  his  morning- room,  while  the  servant 
went  to  apprize  his  master. 

"  Phew  !  "  exclaimed  Haydon  to  himself,  "  how  can  he 
live  in  such  an  atmosphere  ?  "  and  without  further  reflection 
he  threw  up  the  window-sash.  Presently  the  doctor  earner 
sliding  in,  after  his  gentle  manner,  and,  shaking  his  visitor  by 


426  GOSSIP  OF  THE   CENTUEY. 

the  hand,  heartily  welcomed  him,  when  suddenly  he  became 
aware  of  a  chilly  sensation  which  seemed  to  horrify  him  ; 
for,  flying  to  the  bell  which  he  rang  violently,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Good  God  ! — why  ! — have  the  servants  gone  mad  ?  An  open 
window  !  "  and  when  the  servant  appeared,  he  addressed  him 
with  a  vehemence  which  would  not  be  appeased,  and  left  no 
opening  for  an  explanation. 

But  it  was  a  mania  of  Haydon's  to  live  with  open  win- 
dows, and  he  is  said  to  have  behaved  in  a  similar  way  at 
Lord  Yarmouth's.  His  lordship,  however,  took  it  differently, 
for  he  simply  closed  the  window,  and  entered  into  con- 
versation. 

The  friend,  through  whom  I  knew  Elliotson,  used  to  tell  of 
a,  cure  he  had  effected  on  her  maid,  by  the  simplest  means,  and 
without  medicine  :  the  young  woman  was  continually  subject 
to  a  complaint,  not  uncommon  among  "  pampered  menials  " 
— indigestion.  Dr.  Elliotson's  remedy  was  the  enforcing  of  a 
very  simple  rule  :  he  probably  knew  what  are  the  habits  of 
the  class  to  which  she  belonged,  and  desired  her  to  abstain 
from  liquids,  before,  or  while,  eating,  allowing  her  one 
draught  (if  necessary)  in  the  middle  of  dinner  (the  coup  du 
milieu  of  Brillat-Savarin)  and  one  more  at  the  end,  alleging 
that  nature  supplies  the  right  sort  and  the  right  amount  of 
moisture  during  mastication,  and  resists  the  interference 
of  any  extraneous  assistance.  This  was  an  ancient  rule 
observed  in  the  nursery  and  schoolroom  of  the  last  genera- 
tion, when  the  beverage  of  children  was  good,  plain,  whole- 
some toast  and  water. — I  don't  believe  a  modem  child  knows 
the  taste  of  it ! — and  the  allowance  was  limited  to  two 
draughts  during  the  meal.  I  have  heard  a  French  physician 
say  that  the  sip  of  sherry  or  Madeira  after  soup,  called  by 
Brill  at -Savarin  the  "  coup  du  medeein,"  was,  in  his  opinion, 
so  useful  it  might  be  considered  a  "coup  de  pied  aumedecin" 
but  it  was  only  to  be  a  "  sip."  * 

*  A  "sip  "  is  a  somewhat  vague  and  arbitrary  measure.     On  certain  grand  oc- 
casions, the  Temple  dinners  terminate  with  the  passing  round  of  the  loving-cup 


CHARLES   LEVER,   M.D.  427 

Many  years  ago  I  was  attended,  for  an  accident  to  my  Charles 

-i    i       ™  .•    -  -n       T   i        i         •    •          Lever,  M.D. 

hand,  by  Charles  Lever,  then  practising  as  English  physician 
in  Brussels,  cordially  hating  his  profession  all  the  while, 
and  struggling  like  a  caged  bird,  not  only  to  spread  his  wings 
but  to  fly — into  the  realms  of  literature.  As  he  made  no 
secret  of  his  proclivities,  I  don't  think  his  patients  can  have 
had  much  confidence  in  him,  in  his  medical  capacity ;  he 
always  appeared  in  his  consulting-room  habited  in  a  black 
velvet  dressing-gown  tied  with  a  scarlet  silk  girdle  and 
tassels,  and  always  carried  a  pen  behind  his  ear,  not  so 
much  for  writing  prescriptions,  as  to  be  ready  to  rush  to  his 
MSS.  the  moment  he  had  disposed  of  his  patient.  Charles 
Lever  had  considerable  musical  genius,  as  those  who  know 
that  inimitable  little  bit  of  musical  Irish  humour,  "  Widow 
Malone"  can  testify.  As  a  WTiter,  his  admirers  are,  or 
rather  were,  very  numerous :  but  writers  of  light  literature 
now  succeed  each  other  so  quickly,  the  old  have  to  make 
place  for  the  new. 

The  mention  of  this  arch  little  song  recalls  the  first  time 
I  heard  it  sung,  and  with  admirable  appreciation  too,  by  an 
English  medical  specialist  of  repute,  at  an  hospital  entertain- 
ment. It  was  doubly  good-natured  on  the  part  of  one  of  the 
faculty,  as'  it  is  generally  (though  I  venture  to  to  think  mis- 
takenly) supposed,  that  medical  men  can  never  exhibit  a 
proficiency  in  any  extraneous  accomplishment,  without 
compromising  their  professional  character.  So  far  from 
sharing  this  view,  I  can  only  say  that  I  was  so  favourably 
impressed  by  the  evidence  this  gentleman's  performance 
afforded,  not  only  of  the  versatility  of  his  genius,  but  of  the 

containing  white  wine,  sweetened  and  curiously  flavoured,  called  "  sack."  The 
butler  hands  and  replenishes  the  cups,  each  student  being  allowed  one  sip.  It  is 
stated,  however,  that  so  cleverly  are  some  of  these  "  sips  "  managed,  that  a  much 
larger  quantity  of  liquor  disappears  than  would  be  supposed  possible,  and  on  one 
occasion,  the  number  of  diners  being  under  seventy,  they  contrived  to  "  sip  "  away 
thirty-six  quarts  among  them,  making  an  average  of  over  one  pint  to  each  person — 
rather  a  copious  "  sip  "  !  We  might  say  here — "  There's  many  a  '  sip '  'twixt  the 
cup  and  the  lip." 


428 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


Campbell  de 
Morgan. 


A  vegetarian 
doctor. 


cheerfulness  of  his  character,  and  the  human  side  of  his- 
nature,  that  I  immediately  thought  if  ever  I  required  the 
lights  of  a  medical  man  in  that  branch  of  the  profession,  I 
should  certainly  prefer  him  to  any  other. 

Campbell  de  Morgan,  the  great  cancer-specialist,  was  an 
admirable  flutist,  but  it  was  with  great  difficulty  he  could  be 
induced  to  play  in  society,  I  believe,  from  entertaining  the 
feeling  that  such  an  accomplishment  detracted  from  the 
seriousness  of  his  character. 

I  once  heard  an  amusing  anecdote  of  a  well-known  vege- 
tarian doctor  residing  not  a  hundred  miles  from  Cavendish 
Square.  The  narrator  was  a  Yorkshire  Squire  leading  an 
active  country  life,  joining  heartily  in  its  sports,  and  in- 
dulging as  heartily  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table.  He  used 
to  boast  that  he  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  four  meat-meals 
a  day,  and  the  regime  answered  very  well  .  .  .  for  a  time ; 
but  there  came  a  day  when  there  was  obviously  something 
wrong,  and  the  symptoms  went  from  bad  to  worse,  till  a 
friend  urged  him  to  run  up  to  London  and  see  Dr.  -  — . 

The  doctor  diagnosed  the  case,  shook  his  head,  and  told 
him  there  was  only  one  remedy  and  that  was  in  his  own 
hands  ;  he  had  simply  to  diminish  the  quantity  of  flesh-meat 
he  had  been  allowing  himself;  week  by  week  he  was  to 
knock  off  a  certain  amount  of  meat  at  each  meal,  till  he  took 
none,  and  then  to  proceed  on  a  system  of  vegetable  diet. 
The  patient  consented,  and  at  the  end  of  a  twelvemonth  was 
perfectly  cured.  When,  however,  he  came  to  the  end  of  six 
more  months  of  what  he  called  his  "  vegetating  life,"  he  felt 
so  well  and  hearty,  he  thought  himself  cured  for  good  and  all, 
and,  as  he  had  left  off  his  heavy  feeding  by  weekly  intervals, 
so  he  returned,  by  the  same  procedure,  to  his  old  course.  By 
the  end  of  the  second  half  year  he  was  once  more  seriously 
ill,  and  went  back  in  great  alarm  to  Cavendish  Square. 

"Ah!"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  toss  of  his  head  the 
moment  he  recognized  him, — and  he  turned  away  and  waved 
him  off.  "  It's  useless  your  coming  to  me ;  I  can  do  nothing 


A  VEGETARIAN   DOCTOR.  429 

for  you ;  I  see  what  it  is,  you've  been  at  your  nasty  carcases 
.again." 

As  to  vegetarianism,  is  it  quite  clear  that  those  who  adopt 
it  are  practically  satisfied  with  a  doctrine  so  plausible  in 
theory  ?  And  is  it  not  perhaps  true  (as  has  been  asserted) 
that  those  who  debar  themselves  from  animal  food,  secretly 
hanker  after  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  and  when  they  refuse 
roast-beef  are  very  glad  to  get  its  gravy  over  their  vegetables? 
I  know  vegetarians  who,  having  brought  themselves  to 
death's  door,  have  very  quietly  consented  to  be  brought 
round  by  beef-tea,  and  are  willing  to  wink  at  its  being 
administered,  provided  it  be  "  unbeknowns  "  to  them. 

The  last  time  I  was  at  Pisa  I  had  the  curiosity  to  visit  the 
curiously  beautiful  old  market-place,  but,  having  to  return 
through  the  shambles,  so  horrifying  was  the  sight  of  the  local 
•"  butcher's  meat  "  as  it  hung  there,  that  I  became  a  convert 
to  vegetarianism  on  the  spot.  Gradually  the  impression 
faded  and  so  did  my  vegetarianism  ;  but  I  do  my  best  never 
to  revert  to  it,  and  forbear  to  enter,  even  here,  into  a  descrip- 
tion of  what  I  saw.  If  I  mention  it  at  all,  it  is  to  facilitate 
the  efforts  of  those  who  are  trying  to  dispense  with  animal 
food,  by  advising  them  to  inspect  that  department  of  the 
Pisan  market,  for  themselves. 

Vegetarian  advocates  argue,  not  without  plausibility,  that  a 
man  who  would  shrink  from  killing  a  sheep,  has  no  right  to 
eat  mutton.  If  this  doctrine  were  accepted,  there  would 
soon  be  an  end  of  the  meat-market.  When  the  meat-market 
is  gone,  however,  we  shall  have  to  consider  how  we  are  to 
get  on  with  the  other  details  of  life,  without  slaughter- 
ing animals.  It  does  not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  vege- 
tarians to  dispense  with  shoes,  boots,  harness,  saddles, 
book -bindings,  portmanteaus,  and  other  indispensable 
articles  made  from  leather;  they  refuse  to  eat  jelly,  but 
it  How  the  use  of  glue  ;  they  shrink  from  the  flesh  of  hares 
and  rabbits,  but  readily  employ  their  fur,  and  we  never 
heard  of  a  vegetarian  lady  who,  declining  a  slice  of  a 


430  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

pheasant,  yet  considers  it  criminal  to  adorn  her  head  with 
his  feathers.  Vegetarians,  taken  on  their  own  principles,, 
are,  therefore,  ludicrously  inconsistent ;  and,  moreover,  they 
eschew  wine  and  beer,  though  essentially  vegetable  com- 
pounds. Those  who  take  the  humanitarian  view  of  the 
matter  are  inconsistent  in  another  way,  for  while  they 
would  not  kill  a  bullock  for  the  world,  they  express  no  com- 
punction at  the  wholesale  murders  they  occasion  every  time 
they  eat  a  cabbage  ! 

There  are  sects  even  among  vegetarians.  Animal  food,, 
such  as  it  is,  they  consume  without  being  conscious  of  itr 
but  those  who  depart  from  the  strict  vegetarian  code  and 
consciously  comprise  in  their  diet  Vegetables,  Eggs,  and 
Milk  are  contemptuously  designated  by  their  more  rigid 
brethren,  themselves  vegetarians  purs  et  simples,  as  "  Veins." 
Prince  Prince  Hoheiilohe's  miracles,  much  talked  about  in  the 

toheniohe.  ear}y  p^  of  ^ne  century,  obtained  extensive  credit  all  over 
Europe.  A  relative  of  my  own,  afflicted  with  a  cancer,  and 
alas!  having  practically  discerned  that  "  physicians  were  in 
vain,"  sent  to  the  Prince  a  notice  of  her  case  and  asked  his 
prayers.  She  received  a  considerate  and  sympathetic  reply 
with  the  most  consoling  promises,  but — from  whatever 
cause — they  remained  ineffectual  and  she  died  of  the 
complaint. 

A  case  recorded  in  the  press  of  the  time,  February,  1834, 
however,  represents  the  Prince's  powers  as  occasionally  only 
too  efficacious.  This  case  was  that  of  a  beautiful  young  lady, 
whose  rare  charms  were  marred  by  an  unfortunate  disfigure- 
ment ;  the  left  leg  being  shorter  by  four  inches  than  the 
right.  Prince  Hohenlohe  was  asked  to  say  four  masses, 
one,  apparently,  for  each  superfluous  inch !  Unfortunately 
he  misread  the  request  and  said  eight  masses  instead  of 
four.  The  consequence  was  disastrous,  for  it  was  now  the 
right  leg  which  had  become  too  short,  by  four  inches.* 

*  This  untoward  success  recalls  the  story  of  an  old  Irish  woman  found  praying,. 


"DR."  TAYLOR  OF  BRIGHTON.  431 

This  was  the  Prince's  last  miracle,  for  he  was  so  distressed 
at  the  mischief  he  had  occasioned,  that  he  renounced  any 
further  attempt  to  interfere  with  the  decrees  of  Providence. 
It  was  said,  however,  that  he,  somewhat  illogically,  trans- 
ferred his  powers  to  an  old  woman  of  Sonnendorf,  in 
Saxony,  Schumann  by  name. 

There  is  probably  no  one  among  those  who  knew  Brighton  Dr.  Taylor 
in  the  earlier  half  of  the  century,  who  does  not  remember  of  Bnghton- 
«  pr  "  rj;ayior  (as  ne  was  called)  of  "  Newnham  and  Taylor  " 
on  the  Old  Steine.     Very  popular  he  was  among  young  and 
old,  rich  and  poor,  and  as  jolly  a  doctor  as  perhaps  ever  bled 
a  patient  or  prescribed  a  bolus ;  for,  even  down  to  Taylor's 
days,  the  Sangrado  theory  was  still  in  vogue,  though  not 
to  the  rabid  extent  of  a  somewhat  earlier  period :    no,  in 
Taylor's  days  it  was  rather — 

"  The  blue,  blue  pill, 
And  the  black,  black  draught  in  the  morning  !  " 

Taylor,  in  due  course,  slipped  out  of  the  Newnham 
partnership,  and  set  up  on  his  own  account.  He  drove  not 
only  a  flourishing  business,  but  a  splendid  pair  of  bays,, 
during  an  incredible  series  of  years — I  don't  mean  to  say 
that  the  patients  out-lasted  the  whole  period  of  Taylor's 
practice,  any  more  than  the  horses — it  was  like  the  brook 
which  we  habitually  call  the  same,  though  each  day,  nay, 
each  minute,  whether  we  note  it  or  not,  it  is  a  new  brook  that 
flows  at  our  feet.  I  can  remember  him  late  in  the  twenties, 
in  full  practice,  for  he  was  one  day  summoned  to  ascertain 


by  a  passing  tourist,  who  inquired  what  it  could  be  she  was  asking  for  with  so  much 
vehemence. 

"  Faith,  yer  Honor,"  replied  the  poor  old  soul,  "my  darter's  been  marrid  this 
two  year,  and  niver  a  child,  and  I'm  askin*  the  Blessed  Virgin  to  sind  her  a 
baby." 

A  year  after,  the  tourist  returning  by  the  same  road  looked  in  at  the  cottage  and 
inquired  what  had  been  the  result  of  the  prayers. 

"  Och,  yer  Honor  !  would  ye  belave  it ;  I  can't  have  explained  meself  roightly  ! 
the  Blessed  Virgin  has  sint  me  two  grandchilder  instid  av  one,  but  it's  me  tin- 
marrid  darter  they've  come  to." 


432  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTUEY. 

that  there  were  no  broken  bones  after  a  fall  I  had  from  my 
pony  at  Boss's  riding- school.  He  continued  to  dash  about 
Brighton  with  the  reputation  of  a  "Jehu"  long  after  he 
had  retired  from  professional  duties,  his  jolly  face  and  jovial 
manners  still  helping  to  render  him  a  universal  favourite. 
There  were,  during  Taylor's  practice,  several  physicians  in 
Brighton  making  sorry  attempts  to  gain  a  footing,  but  as 
long  as  Taylor  was  to  the  fore,  they  seemed  to  have  no 
chance ;  it  was  Figaro  qua,  Figaro  la,  Figaro  su,  Figaro 
gin.  He  was  in  constant  requisition,  and  Brightonians  of 
all  classes,  visitors  and  residents,  were  perfectly  content 
with  his  ministrations.  His  manner  was  bright  and  hope- 
ful, his  bills  .  .  .  comparatively  moderate — for  he  made  his 
claims  in  the  form  of  bills,  and  there  was  no  question  of 
that  puzzling  remuneration — a  fee. 

The  generality  of  patients  are  apt  to  expect  too  much 
from  the  Faculty,  and  hence  their  disappointment  at  the 
frequent  failures  of  doctors.  It  is  wonderful,  however,  to 
what  an  extent  a  shrewd  and  politic  doctor  can  supplement 
the  limited  means  he  really  commands,  by  drawing  on  the 
imagination  of  his  patients  and  leading  them  to  believe  in 
him  and  trust  him. 

Nature,  of  course,  must  have  done  something  for  such  a 
doctor,  for  it  is  not  given  to  all  to  inspire  their  patients 
with  this  trustfulness.  A  bright  face,  a  cheery  tone,  a  self- 
confident  air  are  part  of  the  physician's  stock-in-trade,  and 
if  not  born  with  these  qualifications  he  must  contrive  to 
acquire  them,  if  he  would  succeed.  If  their  attainment 
prove  beyond  his  efforts  he  had  better  shut  up  shop — or 
rather,  he  had  better  open  shop  ;  he  might  sell  medicines, 
but  could  never  arrive  at  prescribing  them.  We  may 
depend  on  it  the  Blandi  Doctores  are  the  most  popular, 
though  there  is  a  certain  affectation  of  roughness  which 
exercises  its  influence  also. 

Mr.  Richard         I  knew  a  lady  who  was  attended  by  Mr.  Eichard  Part- 
ridge, and  after  his  death  by  a  medical  baronet,  still  living, 


PHASES   OF   THE   FACULTY.  433 

whom  I  will  therefore  not  name.  I  have  heard  her  say  that 
after  a  visit  from  the  former,  though  the  time  had  passed 
mostly  in  friendly  chat  (with  but  a  slight  allusion  to  her  ail- 
ments) she  felt  herself  a  different  being  for  the  rest  of  the 
day  ;  whereas,  the  mere  sound  of  the  carriage-wheels  of  the 
latter,  as  they  drove  up  the  street,  would  throw  her  into  a 
state  of  depression  which  did  not  leave  her  even  when  she 
heard  them  roll  away  :  she  told  me  his  presence  always 
suggested  that  of  an  undertaker ;  and  yet  there  could  have 
been  no  comparison  between  the  professional  abilities  of  the 
two  doctors. 

It  is  curious  to  note  the  variety  of  tones  adopted  by 
different  members,  or  rather  classes,  of  the  Faculty.  The 
rough-and-ready  style  culminated  in  Abernethy.  His  origi- 
nality and  his  successes  excused  it,  and  his  patients  liked 
to  repeat  his  odd  sayings.  There  have  been  few  such  since, 
unless  we  may  classify  with  him  the  late  Dr.  Matthews  Dr.  Matthews 
Duncan,  nicknamed  by  some  of  his  patients  "  Dr.  Gruffy." 
Doctors  who  adopt  this  method  of  treating  their  patients, 
generally  know  what  they  are  about,  and  probably  possess  a 
peculiar  gift  of  manner  which  enables  them  to  employ  it  with 
advantage,  for  we  find  that  class  of  doctor  rarely  disliked ; 
but  no  doubt  a  certain  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  also 
of  individual  temperament,  guides  the  doctor's  instinct,  and 
tells  him  which  of  his  patients  will  prefer,  and  which  will 
resent,  it. 

In  some  cases  it  is  the  soft  and  sympathetic  tone  which 
alone  serves,  and  the  doctor  must  needs  gain  a  habit  of 
expressing  himself  as  if  he  were  actually  associated  with 
his  patient  in  trying  the  remedies  he  proposes.  Doctors 
who  feel  this,  have  the  art  of  identifying  themselves  with 
their  patients  and  putting  themselves,  in  imagination,  in  the 
same  position  ;  an  ailment  is  softened  to  the  sufferer  when 
it  can  be  made  to  appear  it  is  shared.  I  knew  a  doctor  who 
had  acquired  such  a  habit  of  taking  part  in  his  patients' 
complaints  that  he  one  day  said  to  an  old  lady  who  con- 

VOL.  i.  29 


434 


GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 


suited  him  for  a  cold  :  "  '  We  '  will  tallow  '  our '  nose,  and 
put  '  our '  feet  in  hot  water,  and  then  *  we  '  will  go  to  bed." 

Of  the  blander  class,  too,  was  the  doctor  of  whom,  when 
attending  the  Princess  Amelia,  the  old  king  asked  if  she 
might  take  an  ice. 


THE  PRINCESS  AMELIA. 


11  As  many  as  your  Majesty  thinks  fit,"  replied  the 
courteous  Court  physician,  with  an  obsequious  bow,  "pro- 
vided they  are  warmed  first." 

The  last  illness  of  the  Princess  Amelia,  if  it  supplied  a 
medical  joke,  was  marked  with  a  very  sad  interest  :  she  was 


PRINCESS   AMELIA'S   DOCTOR.  435 


the  King's  favourite  daughter,  and  her  too  obvious  condition 
of  health  filled  her  poor  old  father  with  the  most  wearing 
anxiety :  more  than  this,  when  she  was  on  her  death-bed,  a 
fearful  shock  awaited  him.  It  was  only  then  that  she  con- 
fessed to  him  for  the  first  time,  that  she  was  secretly  married. 
The  King  was  struck  aghast ;  but  when, — on  his  inquiring  to 
whom,  the  Princess  replied,  "  To  a  man  you  have  always 
honoured  with  your  special  favour — General  Fitzroy," — the 
King  uttered  a  cry  of  horror,  and  fled  from  the  room. 
Neither  the  General  nor  the  Princess  were  in  any  way  aware 
of  that  officer's  parentage,  but  the  King  knew  only  too  well 
who  was  his  father.  The  Princess  died  shortly  after  making 
this  ominous  revelation,  and  the  terrible  nature  of  it,  together 
with  her  death,  proved  too  much  for  the  already  impaired 
mental  condition  of  the  King,  whose  severest  attack,  from 
which  he  never  recovered,  was  thought  to  have  been  hastened 
toy  the  effect  of  these  disasters. 

Of  the  bluffer  school  of  medicos,  was  a  famous  oculist  Dr. — , 
whom  I  was  urged  to  consult  about  twenty  years  ago ;  and  oculist 
who  was  much  put  out  by  my  absolute  refusal  to  submit 
to  an  application  of  belladonna,  without  which  he  said,  he 
'could  not  make  a   satisfactory  diagnosis :   however,  he  ex- 
amined my  eyes,  affecting  an  ominous  and  perplexing  silence, 
all  that  he  condescended  to  utter,  being  a  mysterious  grunt : 
provoked  into  an  inquiry,  I  said  at  last  : — 

"What  is  it,  doctor?  have  you  discovered  that  it  is  a 
'cataract  ?  " 

'"  Cataract  ?  no  "  ;  "I  wish  it  was  I  "  he  answered  in  a 
hollow  and  foreboding  voice. 

As  he  vouchsafed  no  further  information  I  had  to  con- 
clude that  he  thought  it  a  very  serious  case :  if  he  did,  all 
I  can  say  is,  his  opinion  was  as  bad  as  his  grammar,  for  I 
have  steered  clear  of  oculists  ever  since,  without  being  any 
the  worse  for  it. 

Cyrus  Redding  tells  a  story  of  Dr.  Wolcot  which  is  not  Dr-  Woicot. 
without  point :    visiting   him  one  day,  when  he  was   very 


436 


GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 


Taylor,  the 
oculist. 


Mr,  Richard 
Partridge. 


old,  he  found  him  in  his  bedroom,  laid  up,  and  with  a 
bandage  over  his  eyes. 

"  Why,  what  has  happened,  Doctor  ?  "  said  the  visitor. 

"Ah!  since  you  were  here,"  he  answered,  "Adams  the 
oculist,  (afterwards  Sir  Wm.  Kawson),  who  goes  about 
blinding  everybody,  persuaded  me  to  submit  to  the 
operation  of  couching." 

"  And  you  consented  ?  " 

"  Not  on  both  eyes  ;  I  only  agreed  that  he  should  try 
what  he  could  do  with  one." 

"  And  with  what  success  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  of  course  so  famous  a  practitioner  could  not  fail,  and 
he  has  succeeded  in  curing  my  eye,  for  ever,  ...  of  seeing. 
I  could,  before,  distinguish  the  figure  of  any  one  between 
my  eye  and  the  light.  I  have  just  escaped  an  inflammation 
that  might  have  reached  the  other  eye,  besides  enduring 
three  or  four  weeks  of  confinement ;  I  outwitted  him,, 
however." 

"How?" 

"  I  gave  him  the  worst  eye  to  block  up.  He  had  per- 
suaded me  into  it ;  but  at  eighty  it  was  folly ;  he  only 
wanted  my  name  to  puff  a  cure  with." 

Taylor,  a  well-known  oculist  of  a  somewhat  later  day,  was 
famous  for  drawing  the  long  bow,  especially  when  recounting 
feats  of  his  own  performance.  One  day  when  this  specialist 
was  dining  with  the  barristers  of  the  Oxford  Circuit,  and 
talking  overmuch  of  the  clever  things  he  had  done  in  his. 
time,  Bearcroft  began  to  be  irritated  by  his  vanity,  and 
turning  sharply  on  him  said : — 

"  Chevalier,  you  have  told  us  of  much  that  you  have  done 
and  can  do,  isn't  it  about  time  you  tried  to  tell  us  of  some- 
thing you  can't  do  ?  ' 

"I  can  manage  that  without  much  trying,"  answered 
Taylor  ;  "I  can't  pay  my  share  of  the  dinner-bill,  and  that 
is  a  thing  you  can  do  much  better  than  I." 

Mr.  Eichard  Partridge,  the  surgeon  whose  cheeriness  of 


DR.   NELATON. 


437 


manner  (already  mentioned)  stood  him  in  good  stead,  I 
often  had  occasion  to  see.  It  will  be  remembered  that  he 
was  sent  over  to  diagnose  the  condition  of  Garibaldi's 
wounded  foot.  In  this  case  he  entirely  failed,  and  even 
advised  amputation  ;  however,  Perizofif,  the  celebrated 
Russian  surgeon,  who  was  also  despatched  to  the  patient, 
was  equally  at  fault  :  last  of  all  came  Nelaton,  whose  Dr.  Neiaton. 
reputation  was  based  principally  on  the  rapidity  and  pene- 
tration of  his  medical  judgment  :  he  could  take  in  the 


LE  DOCTEUR  NELATON. 

detail  of  the  most  complicated  case  almost  at  a  glance,  and 
his  first  opinion  was  generally  correct. 

His  remedies,  modified  with  judgment  according  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  were  always  marked  by  extreme 
simplicity.  The  cause  of  the  condition  which  the  wound 'had 
reached  at  the  time  that  the  Italian  surgeons  had  abandoned 
the  patient,  and  that  these  foreigners  had  been  called  in, 
was  at  once  manifest  to  the  French  practitioner.  He  dif- 


438  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

fered  in  opinion  from  his  English  and  Russian  colleagues y 
and  was  perfectly  satisfied  as  to  the  presence  of  the  bullet,, 
and  of  this  he  proceeded  at  once  to  convince  them. 
The  discovery  was  ingeniously  made  by  sounding  the 
wound  with  a  small  porcelain  ball  on  the  point  of  the  probe. 
Garibaldi's  gratitude  to  his  deliverer  was  extreme,  and 
Nelaton  might  have  pocketed  a  large  sum,  but  he  (diplo- 
matically ?)  refused  to  accept  any  fee,  giving  fine,  sentimental 
reasons  for  this  forbearance,  to  the  effect  that  it  was  enough 
for  him  to  have  saved  the  life  of  the  greatest  hero,  &c.,  Ac . 
If  I  say  "  diplomatically,"  it  is  under  the  impression  that 
it  was  not  in  Nelaton's  habits  to  display  so  lofty  a  spirit,  and 
if  he  did  not  take  the  fee  on  this  occasion,  his  celebrity  so 
greatly  increased  after  the  incident  that  it  led  to  his  taking 
many  others ;  for  he  died  worth  6,000,000  (of  francs),  but 
even  in  francs  it  was  a  respectable  sort  of  fortune  for  a 
doctor  to  have  accumulated,  though  he  had  had  the  good 
luck  to  marry  a  young  heiress. 

Dr.  Birch  told  me,  as  authentic,  an  amusing  story  of  this 
eminent  French  doctor.  He  had  been  attending  the  young 
and  only  son  of  the  Comtesse  tie  -  — ,  who  had  met  with  a 
not  very  severe  accident  at  play.  The  mother,  however, 
measured  her  gratitude  more  by  the  value  of  the  child's  life 
and  the  anxiety  the  accident  had  caused  her,  than  by  the 
services  of  the  surgeon,  who  nevertheless  had  brought  him 
through  very  satisfactorily.  "When  he  was  taking  leave  after 
his  last  visit,  wishing  to  express  to  him  a  sense  of  her 
recognition  of  his  care  and  patience,  she  presented  him  with 
a  handsomely  embroidered  pocket-book,  expressly  worked  for 
him  by  her  own  fair  fingers,  and  she  intimated  to  him  that 
she  had  paid  him  this  little  compliment.  To  the  Comtesse 's 
surprise  and  mortification,  not  only  did  Nelaton  not  show 
any  appreciation  of  her  amiable  intention,  but  contented 
himself  with  bowing  stiffly,  and  ignoring  the  gracious 
offering. 

"  Madame  la  Comtesse,"  said  he,  "  the  pocket-book  is  quite 


PHYSICIAN'S   FEES.  439 


<i   work  of  art,  and  I  admire  it  exceedingly,  but  my  fee  is 
two  thousand  francs." 

"  Not  more  !  "  said  she  ;  then  opening  the  leaves  she  took 
out  a  little  bundle  of  five  one-thousand  franc  notes,  and 
from  it  selected  two,  which  she  presented  to  him,  bowing 
stiffly  in  her  turn,  and  retiring  with  the  rejected  pocket-book 
find  the  remaining  notes. 

Whether  Nelaton  repented  of  his  maladrense  I  know  not, 
but  Louis  XIV.  would  certainly  have  classed  it  among  those 
"  blunders"  which  he  considered  "  worse  than  crimes." 

To  balance  this,  anecdotes  more  favourable  to  his  character 
have  been  related  of  Nelaton ;  he  was  born  in  1807,  and 
died  in  1873. 

Apropos  of  fees,  I  remember  a  good  story  of  the  late  Dr.  Dr.  Biundeii. 
Blundell — perhaps  his  name  would  have  described  him  more 
accurately  with  a  different  termination — of  Great  George 
Street,  on  wrhom  a  patient,  a  relation  of  my  own,  called  one 
day,  and  as  he  was  too  ill  and  infirm  to  leave  his  carriage, 
the  doctor  was  obliged  to  get  in  and  hold  the  consultation 
there.  Infirm  as  he  was,  however,  the  patient  was  a  wag, 
and  had  an  irrepressible  way  of  making  a  joke  of  everything. 
The  doctor  felt  his  pulse,  and,  assuming  a  grave  look  of 
wisdom,  stated  solemnly  that  he  did  not  exactly  like  the 
symptoms,  but  was  not  quite  prepared  to  say  what  course 
should  be  followed  ;  "In  fact,  Sir  Charles,"  he  said,  "  it  will 
be  necessary  for  me  to  see  you  at  least  three  times  before  I 
can  determine  the  nature  of  the  case." 

"  Don't  you  think  now,  doctor,"  said  the  facetious  patient, 
coaxingly,  "  that  if  I  were  to  give  you  the  three  fees  down, 
you  could  tell  me  at  once  ?" 

"  Sir  Charles,"  replied  the  doctor  with  offended  dignity, 
'  I  don't  know  whether  any  other  member  of  the  Faculty 
will  be  willing  to  advise  you,  but  you  must  excuse  me  from 
attending  you  any  longer  ; "  and  with  that  he  withdrew  loftily 
into  his  own  house,  and  the  patient  drove  away  chuckling 
over  his  joke. 


440  GOSSIP  OF   THE   CENTURY. 

I  don't  know  who  said  that  the  letters  M.D.  after  a 
physician's  name  stood  for  "  Money  down,"  but  the  ex- 
planation is  certainly  plausible. 

Dr.  EadcMe.  There  are  many  well-known  anecdotes  about  Dr.  Radcliffe, 
but,  while  on  the  subject  of  fees,  I  venture  to  cite  one  which 
I  do  not  think  is  among  the  more  hackneyed.  The  doctor 
was  tempted  to  risk  £5,000  in  the  South  Sea  Bubble,  and 
lost  it.  In  reply  to  the  friend  who  informed  him  of  the 
collapse,  he  is  said  to  have  replied  with  admirable  equanimity, 
"It  is  only  going  up  five  thousand  more  flights  of  stairs." 
He  was  pretty  sure  of  his  fees  apparently. 

As  an  instance  of  the  patient's  view  of  fees,  I  may  quote 
an  anecdote  of  Quin,  around  whose  sick  bed  four  doctors 
were  consulting  as  to  the  best  mode  of  producing  a  pers- 
piration :  the  humourist,  overhearing  the  discussion,  said, 
"  Send  in  your  bills,  gentlemen,  that  will  do  it  at  once." 

There  is  a  celebrated  physician  still  living,  and  not  a 
hundred  miles  from  Harley  Street,  whose  name  I  therefore 
withhold,  who  was  consulted  a  few  years  ago  by  a  friend  of 
mine,  not  for  the  first  or  even  the  second  time.  It  was  just 
after  the  public  had  been  given  to  understand  that  the  old- 
fashioned  guinea  fee  had  become  obsolete,  and  was  to  be 
doubled. — I  may  remark,  par  parenthese,  what  an  opening 
this  gave  to  the  medical  practitioner  ! — On  taking  leave  of 
this  physician,  my  friend  inquired,  "  What  am  I  to  give  you, 
Dr.  Blank?" 

"Ah,  yes;  well,  as  it  is  not  a  first  visit  I  suppose  you 
will  not  care  to  give  more  than  a  guinea." 

"  True  ;  but  I  thought,  perhaps,  as  it  is  a  fresh  con- 
sultation, it  might  come  into  the  category  of  a  first  visit." 

"Ah,  yes;  you  are  right,  ....  but"  (with  a  bland 
smile,  and  turning  out  the  palms  of  both  hands)  "give  me 
what  you  please." 

Of  course  there  was  but  one  way  of  meeting  so  expressive 
an  attitude. 

I  was  once  weak  enough  to  be  persuaded  into  consulting 


DE.   ERASMUS   WILSON.  441 

Erasmus  Wilson.    I  went  by  appointment,  and  was  punctual  Erasmus 
to  the  minute  :  notwithstanding  my  exactitude,  he  had  the 
cheek  to  keep  me  waiting  one  hour  and  a  half. 

My  resentment  at  this  unjustifiable  snub,  for  as  such  I 
regarded  it,  was  augmented  by  the  insolent  grandeur  of  the 
doctor's  mansion ;  the  noble  proportions  of  the  staircase 
and  vestibule,  the  solemn  correctness  of  the  butler,  the 
costly  fittings  and  decorations  of  the  rooms,  the  valuable 
collection  of  works  of  art — of  course  some  of  these  may 
have  been  "  G.P.'s",  or  they  may  have  been  hung  there  by 
an  understanding  with  the  painters ;  but,  more  probably, 
they  were  bond  fide  property,  and  if  so,  so  many  proofs  of 
the  credulity  of  his  patients  and  of  his  own  ingenuity ;  in 
any  case,  I  could  not  help  thinking  how  unwise  it  was  to 
display  all  this  magnificence  to  one  whose  susceptibilities 
he  was  at  that  moment  bruising — as  if  to  remind  him  he 
was  individually  adding  to  the  number  of  dupes. 

When  at  length  I  was  ushered  into  the  sanctum,  instead 
of  offering  any  explanation  or  apology,  he  blandly  expressed 
a  hope  that  "I  had  found  something  to  amuse  me!" 
evidently  expecting  a  string  of  compliments  on  the  taste 
and  wealth  of  his  collection. 

"  I  have  no  time  for  amusement,  Doctor,"  I  replied; 
"  I  have  employed  the  time  while  I  was  waiting,  in  writing 
a  fresh  chapter  to  a  volume  I  am  preparing  for  the 
press." 

"Ha!  and  what  is  the  title  of  your  book?"  said  he, 
patronisingly. 

"I  haven't  yet  decided  on  the  title  of  the  book,"  I 
answered,  "  but  the  title  of  that  chapter  will  be  *  THE 
HORRORS  OF  THE  PHYSICIAN'S  WAITING-ROOM.'  ' 

Erasmus  Wilson  had,  no  doubt,  very  good  reasons  of  his 
own  for  his  persistent  recommendation  to  his  patients  to 
employ  Pears'  Soap. 

In  July,  1834,  there  died  in  Harley  Street  a  quack  doctor, 
by  name  of  St.  John  Long,  who  professed  to  cure  con- 


442  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

sumption.  He  was  only  35  when  he  died,  of  the  rupture  of 
a  blood-vessel.  There  must  have  been  some  believers  in 
the  potency  of  his  remedies,  for  his  executors  sold  his 
secret  for  £10,000.  Perhaps  it  may  be  known  among  the 
Faculty  what  this  secret  was,  and  whether  the  investment, 
proved  a  profitable  one  to  the  purchaser.  What  if  this 
should  turn  out  to  be  identical  with  "Dr.  Koch's  dis- 
covery" ?  or  the  more  recent  improvement  (?)  on  it  by 
another  German  visionary  ? 
Dr.  Henry  Through  the  Bev.  Edward  Monro,  the  late  conscientious ,_ 

Monro. 

ingenious,  cultivated,  and  indefatigable  Hector  of  Harrow 
Weald,  whom  I  knew  intimately,  I  became  acquainted  with 
his  brother,  Dr.  Monro,  the  specialist  in  lunacy  cases  ;  the 
father  of  both,  also  belonged  to  this  branch  of  the  profession,, 
and  wras  one  of  the  physicians  of  George  III. 

Dr.  Monro  went  by  the  name  of  the  "  Boy-Doctor,"  from 
the  smoothness  of  his  chin  and  the  general  juvenility  of  his 
appearance,  from  which  it  was  difficult  to  form  any  estimate- 
of  his  age.  He  must,  however,  at  the  time  I  speak  of,  have 
possessed  considerable  experience  and  knowledge,  for  he 
was  head-physician  at  St.  Luke's. 

He  one  day  kindly  offered  to  take  me  to  one  of  the 
periodical  balls  given  at  that  hospital  for  the  benefit  and 
entertainment  of  the  inmates,  and  it  certainly  proved  a  very 
interesting  experience,  for  it  was  impossible  not  to  be  sur- 
prised at  the  tranquility  and  order  with  which  all  the  detail 
went  on.  It  was  difficult  to  realize  to  oneself  even  that 
there  was  anything  abnormal  in  the  condition  of  things  ; 
the  "ladies  and  gentlemen"  behaved  with  the  greatest 
propriety,  and  the  little  minauderies  of  the  former,  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  other  sex,  were  fully  as  flirtatious 
as  the  small  devices  employed  by  their  sisters  of  the  so- 
called  saner  world.  They  country-danced,  and  they  quad- 
rilled,  and  "polked,"  and  waltzed,  and  promenaded,  and  drank 
weak  negus  and  lemonade,  and,  in  fact,  "  went  on"  to  all 
intents  and  purposes  as  if  their  ball-room  were  not  the 


DR.   MONRO.  443 

refectory  of  a  mad-house,  with  the  benches  and  tables 
ivmoved,  and  the  boards  scrubbed. 

The  antecedents  of  the  improvised  dancing-room  were  so 
cleverly  masked  with  draperies  and  devices,  flowers  and 
banners,  that  no  one  ignorant  of  the  fact,  would  for  a 
moment  have  suspected  where  he  was. 

I  entered  into  conversation  with  a  respectable-looking 
fellow  of  middle  age,  and  whose  speech  seemed  to  me  to 
betoken  a  rather  superior  education  for  one  of  his  class.  He 
told  me  he  had  travelled,  and  that  it  was  in  Germany  (in 
answer  to  a  question  of  mine)  that  he  had  learnt  to  waltz 
so  well.  He  told  me  of  many  national  characteristics  he 
had  noticed  in  that  country,  which  showed  him  to  be  shrewd 
and  observant,  and  he  spoke  the  language  fairly  well,  if  with 
a  pronounced  Prussian  accent. 

He  said,  "  Yes,  I  brought  away  from  that  country  a  good 
deal  of  knowledge  I  didn't  take  there;  but,"  he  added,  "I 
also  brought  away  a  great  many  different  salts." 

' '  Salts ! "  said  I ;  "  and  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  them  ?  " 
for  I  began  to  think  he  might  be  in  the  drug  line. 

"  Oh  I"  he  replied,  laughing — "  Going  to  do  with  them  t 
it's  too  late  for  that  now,  I've  given  them  all  away ;  they 
were  valuable  in  many  ways,  and  I  was  so  teased  for  them 
I  was  glad  to  get  done  with  it,  so  I  gave  'em  away,  all 
....  except ;  ah,  yes,  except  the  salt  of  wisdom,  and 
that  nobody  asked  me  for;  indeed  they  wouldn't  have  it 
when  I  offered  it." 

"  Well,  I'm  as  much  surprised  as  you,  one  would  have 
expected  that  to  be  the  first  asked  for." 

"  Ah!  yes,  wouldn't  one?" 

"Well,  you  needn't  have  it  on  your  hands  any  longer;, 
give  it  to  me,  I'll  gladly  rid  you  of  it,"  said  I. 

At  this  he  put  on  a  cunning  look,  and  whispered  in  my  ear,. 
"  Look  you,  the  fact  of  your  asking  for  it  shows  you  don't 
want  it,  so  I  shall  keep  it  for  myself."  Then  he  went  on, 
"  I  daresay  now  you're  surprised  to  see  me  in  this  .  .  .  this 


444  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

.  .  .  club,  but  the  fact  is  I  came  back  to  England  to  be  made 
a  ward  in  Chancery,  and  as  they  told  me  there  were  a  great 
many  wards  in  the  club,  I  thought  it  would  be  a  good  place 
to  lodge  at." 

This  poor  fellow  had  quite  a  musical  genius,  and  the  fact 
having  transpired  in  the  course  of  our  talk,  he  asked  me  if  I 
should  like  him  to  play  something ;  and  hastening  to  the 
piano  he  seated  himself,  and  performed  a  curious  but  brilliant 
and  astonishing  consecutive  medley,  into  which  he  introduced 
the  best  known  of  our  national  airs ;  but  when  he  rolled  out 
"  God  save  the  Queen,"  and  all  present  stood  up  and  joined 
in  the  chorus,  he  showed  himself  so  wildly  enthusiastic  that 
it  became  pretty  evident  he  had  gone  too  far.  In  the  midst 
of  it,  an  attendant  approached  and  tapped  him  gently  on  the 
shoulder.  It  was  like  magic  ;  he  turned  round,  and  recog- 
nizing the  official,  in  an  instant  he  had  become  another  being. 
He  rose,  said  not  a  word,  and  followed  the  man  with  the 
most  lamb-like  meekness  ;  but  he  did  not  forget,  as  he  passed 
me,  to  say  a  respectful  "  Good-night."  "  Good-night,"  said 
I,  and  gave  him  my  hand.  I  was  glad  I  had  thought  of  this, 
as  an  expression  of  true  pleasure,  touching  to  witness,  stole 
over  his  face,  and  when  he  reached  the  door  he  looked  back 
again  with  a  calm  smile  on  his  face,  and  bowed  once  more 
to  me,  saying,  "  Thank  you."  Seldom  probably  is  it  that 
these  poor  creatures  meet  with  sympathetic  notice. 

This  musical  escapade  and  the  genius  it  betrayed,  brings 
to  my  mind  a  visit  I  once  paid  to  the  criminal  ward  of 
Bethlehem  Hospital,  when  the  parricide  Dadd  was  under- 
going his  lifelong  seclusion.  It  may  not  perhaps  be  remem- 
bered by  many  at  the  present  day,  that  this  unhappy  creature 
conducted  his  old  father  to  the  brink  of  a  ravine,  precipice, 
or  pit — I  have  forgotten  the  locality — and  then  deliberately 
pushed  him  over.  He  was  acquitted  on  the  plea  of  insanity, 
but  sentenced  to  be  imprisoned  for  life,  and  being  by  profes- 
sion a  painter,  was  allowed  the  use  of  brushes,  colours,  &c., 
in  his  confinement.  When  I  entered  the  cell  or  room 


MR.    SAMUEL   CAETWRIGHT.  445 

allotted  to  him,  he  had  his  back  turned  to  the  door,  and  was 
busily  engaged  on  a  canvas  that  stood  on  his  easel. 

It  was  one  of  the  most  singular  productions  imaginable. 
The  colouring  was  brilliant ;  a  number  of  figures  were 
introduced,  all  most  carefully  painted ;  but  they  were  of 
various  sizes,  and  the  grouping  seemed  to  be  altogether 
accidental.  As  soon  as  the  artist  became  aware  there  were 
persons  present,  he  turned  round  and  bowed  courteously, 
begging  us  to  approach  and  examine  his  work. 

"Now  what  do  you  think  of  that  for  a  subject  ?  "  said  he. 

"  It  is  a  very  complicated  and  highly-finished  composition," 
I  replied,  evading  the  question,  from  a  reluctance  to  wound 
his  vanity,  by  confessing  an  utter  inability  to  make  it  out ; 
happily,  he  did  not  press  the  inquiry ;  but  proceeding  with 
some  volubility,  he  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  that  I  under- 
stood that  it  represented  a  scene  from  A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream.  I  don't  think  any  other  proof  was  needed  of  the 
abnormal  state  of  the  man's  mind. 

With  that  branch  of  medicine,  or  rather  surgery,  known  Samuel  Cart- 
as  dentistry,  I  have  been  more  familiar  than  with  any  other,  dentist', 
for  the  very  simple  reason  that  in  that  respect  Nature  was 
not  sufficiently  left  to  herself.     My  good  father  thought  two 
visits  a  year  to  the  dentist — one  before  leaving  London  for 
the  summer,  the  other  after  returning — were  indispensable 
to  the  good  ordering  of  the  mouth  and  its  furniture. 

Consequently,  once  in  every  six  months  we  were  taken  to 
that  solemn  and  purgatorial  mansion  in  Old  Burlington 
Street  occupied  by  the  famous  Samuel  Cartwright,  and 
admitted,  only  by  favour  of  an  "  appointment  "  made  some 
three  or  four  weeks  previously,  through  the  patronizing 
intermediation  of  the  dignified  Cerberus.  This  functionary 
sat  in  a  ponderous  hall-porter's  chair  in  the  spacious  vestibule, 
and  kept  an  ominous  doomsday-book  filled  with  entries  of 
real  (and  also,  I  suspect,  imaginary)  dates  and  names.  It 
has  often  amused  me  in  later  years  to  remember  the  well- 
assumed  gravity  with  which  this  keeper  of  the  dentist's 


446  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 


conscience  would  deny  the  possibility  of  fixing  any  day  and 
hour  less  remote  than  the  one  he  considered  sufficiently 
distant  to  be  imposing ;  he  would  prolong  his  hesitation  as 
to  according  even  that  one,  till  he  had  thus  drawn  a  douceur 
of  half-a-sovereign  out  of  my  father's  pocket.  This  was 
followed  by  a  refresher  of  at  least  five  shillings  more  when 
the  dies  irce  arrived,  and  was  supposed  to  insure  as  speedy 
.an  admittance  as  possible.  The  appointment  so  costlily 
bargained  for,  was  virtually  of  little  or  no  avail,  and  I  can 
-only  too  well  remember  on  the  occasion  of  those  dreaded 
attendances,  the  added  horror  of  often  from  two  to  three 
hours'  anticipation  in  that  huge  and  dismal  waiting-room,  and 
it  was  usually  pretty  full.  I  have  since  had  good  reason  to 
believe  about  half  the  number  were  dummies,  who,  like  the 
real  victims,  were  silently  called  out  as  their  respective  turns 
came, — or  were  supposed  to  come, — and  appeared  no  more  ; 
just  as  each  one  of  us  is  beckoned  out  of  the  world  at  his 
appointed  hour  by  the  scarcely  more  weird  finger  of  Death. 
In  fact,  the  whole  thing  was  a  solemn  farce ;  but  somehow 
it  "  took,"  and  fashionable  patients  were  so  ingeniously 
brought  to  place  the  most  implicit  and  irrational  confidence 
in  the  great  dentist,  that  they  readily  submitted  to  all  these 
indignities,  if  they  could  but,  at  last,  obtain  the  privilege 
of  having  their  sound  teeth  extracted  by  this  bold  and 
successful  charlatan. 

How  well  I  remember  that  grim  waiting-room,  its  lofty 
stucco  walls  of  a  dingy  green,  hung  with  dark  pictures  in 
heavy  gilt  frames ;  the  ponderous  furniture,  leather-covered 
arm-chairs,  Turkey  carpet,  and  then  that  long,  massive 
table,  covered  with  a  dark  blue  cloth  and  strewn  with  the 
dreariest  old  books.  Periodicals  were  few  and  costly  in  those 
days,  comic  papers  had  not  yet  come  into  existence,  and  the 
three  volumes  of  Brambletye  House,  Cooper's  Kpy,  Scott's 
Red  Gauntlet,  and  an  odd  volume  or  two  of  The  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  figured  in  a  more  and  more  torn,  dog's-eared,  and 
•dilapidated  condition  year  after  year.  Dreary  and  dismal 


THE   DENTIST'S   WAITING-ROOM.  447 


indeed  were  those  three  or  four  mortal  hours  spent  in 
momentary  dread  of  the  fatal  summons.  Each  time  the 
door  opened  to  admit  a  new  patient,  or  to  call  out  a  fellow- 
sufferer,  it  aroused  a  conflict  of  emotions  between  the  terror 
of  finding  oneself  the  destined  victim,  and  the  grim  satisfac- 
tion of  feeling  oneself  reprieved  for  a  little  while  longer. 

On  one  occasion,  after  a  roomful  of  about  twenty  had 
passed  through  this  fiery  ordeal,  the  butler  appeared  at  the 
door  to  solemnly  and  respectfully  inform  Mr.  Cartwright's 
patients  that  that  "  eminent"  .  .  .  humbug — "would  not  be 
able  to  see  any  more  of  them  that  day,  as  he  had  been 
summoned  to  attend  one  of  the  Koyal  Family."  An  excellent 
reclame,  no  doubt !  * 

Ah  !  but  when  one  did  get  admitted  to  the  operating-room 
.  .  .  what  a  business-like  place  that  was,  and  how  grave  and 
solid  this  same  humbug  could  look.  He  never  let  you  go 
till  he  had  pulled  out  half  the  sound  teeth  in  your  head,  and 
he  had  a  clever  knack  of  concealing  the  extracting  instrument 
up  his  sleeve,  and  saying,  "  Just  allow  me  to  look,"  with  an 
air  of  such  candour  that  you  never  suspected  treachery  and 
yielded  confidingly  to  the  insidious  request.  Then  lo  !  before 
you  could  say  "  Jack  Robinson,"  yea,  in  the  twinkling  of  an 

::  This  medical  dodge,  practised  in  many  tolerably  well-known  forms,  such  as 
being  fetched  out  of  church,  or  summoned  from  a  dinner-party  or  ball,  for  a 
supposed  patient,  was  carried  out  in  perfection  by  a  French  doctor — Portal— who, 
without  any  medical  skill,  contrived  to  make  his  way  to  earthly  glory  by  following 
the  advice  of  his  master,  the  famous  (charlatan)  doctor,  Tronchin,  1798  :  "  N'ayez 
pas  de  talent,"  he  would  say  to  his  pupils,  "mais  faites  parler  de  vous."  The  result  was 
that  Portal  ended  by  finding  himself,  long  before  his  death,  in  1832,  M.  de  V Academic 
des  Science,  President  de  la  Faculte  de  Mcdecine,  Professeurau  College  de  France, 
and  Court  Physician  to  Louis  XVIII.  In  the  early  days  of  his  career,  Portal  had 
recourse  to  the  following  stratagem.  After  disguising  his  face,  he  donned  a  grand 
livery,  and  going  about  the  town  late  at  night,  attacked  the  most  magnificent 
mansions,  making  a  loud  knocking  at  the  door  and  inquiring  whether  it  was  not 
there  that  the  great  Dr.  Portal  was  attending  a  patient,  as  he  had  not  been  able  to 
find  him  at  his  house,  and  he  was  wanted  immediately  for  his  master,  the  Due 

de .     This  proceeding  he  repeated  sufficiently  often,  to  impress  his  name  on 

those  at  whose  houses  he  applied,  and  succeeded  in  ultimately  obtaining  the  largest 
practice  of  any  physician  in  Paris,  together  with  the  attainment  of  all  the  profes- 
sional dignities  above  enumerated. 


448  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

eye,  you  fancied  you  recognized  six  wrenches,  and  didn't  you 
feel  them  smartly  when,  a  minute  after,  you  saw  a  corres- 
ponding number  of  fine  shiny,  white,  unblemished  teeth 
standing  in  a  ghastly  group,  each  in  its  little  crimson  pool, 
on  the  turning-table  beside  you.  Alas  !  what  would  you  not 
give  to  have  them  in  their  places  now  ?  It  was  the  smartest 
conjuring- trick  imaginable.  Oh  yes,  of  course  he  could 
"replace"  them  .  .  .  with  sham  ones,  and  this,  naturally 
and  necessarily,  was  part  of  his  little  game.  Several  guineas 
passing  from  the  hand  of  one  individual  into  that  of  another 
closed  this  comical,  and  at  the  same  time,  tragical  scene, 
and  then  Mr.  Samuel  Cartwright,  with  an  oily  "  Good-day," 
conducted  his  fleeced  and  bleeding  victim  to  the  door  of  the 
room.  As  he  held  it  open,  by  pressing  his  foot  on  a  spring 
in  the  floor,  he  communicated  with  the  obsequious  atten- 
dant, who,  after  showing  out  that  sufferer,  ushered  another 
into  the  dread  presence.  What  a  relief  it  was  to  find  oneself 
once  more  disembarrassed  and  free  !  One  forgot  the  irrepar- 
able injury  with  which  this  freedom  had  been  purchased  ; 
forgot  the  precious  spoil  left  behind,  the  value  of  which  would 
come  to  light  only  at  a  future  day ;  the  present  fact  was 
enough  for  the  moment :  Cartwright  was  done  with  for  six 
months  !  An  age,  at  that  time  of  life  ! 

It  is  to  be  deplored  that  the  more  respectable  class  of 
doctors  should  think  it  necessary  to  impose  on  their  patients 
those  weary  and  trying  hours  of  waiting  ;  but  the  blame  in  a 
great  measure  rests  with  the  patients.  Why  do  they  submit 
to  the  treatment  ?  It  seems  to  me  a  gross  impertinence  on 
the  part  of  a  medical  man  to  keep  a  patient  waiting,  who 
has  been  punctual  to  the  appointed  hour,  and  the  patient 
should  in  that  case  not  be  too  patient.  If  he  had  the  pluck 
to  resist  or  resent  it,  the  imposition  would  soon  come  to  an 
end. 

In  some  (perhaps  most)  cases,  no  doubt,  it  is  a  mere  "  trick 
of  the  trade,"  and  as  such  should  be  exposed.  In  others  it 
is  quite  possible  the  physician  may  be  occupied,  but  surely 


DE.   BUCHAN.  449 


he  can  arrange  his  work  so  as  not  to  make  a  rule  of  over- 
lapping the  time  due  to  one  patient  by  that  given  to  another. 

On  my  father's  property  in  Radnorshire  we  had  an  old  Dr. 
Highland  shepherd,  by  name  Buchan.  He  died  many  years  descendant- 
ago,  but  I  can  recollect  his  tall,  somewhat  gaunt  figure,  clad 
in  a  long  grey  garment  resembling  the  "  ulster "  of  the 
present  day.  He  spoke  chiefly  Gaelic,  but  could  make 
himself  understood  in  English,  which  he  flattered  himself  he 
spoke  fluently  ;  the  Scotch  accent  was,  however,  tolerably 
marked,  for  he  used  to  state  not  only  that  he  was  of  Scotch 
origin,  but  that  he  was  a  kinsman  of  Dr.  Buchan,  the  well- 
known  physician  of  the  last  century,  but  who  lived  five  years 
into  this. 

The  old  fellow  was  one  of  those  good-tempered  old  servants 
of  the  ancien  regime,  who  took  an  affectionate  interest  in  the 
families  they  served.  Whether  he  inherited  his  knowledge 
of  the  healing  art  by  atavism  from  his  medical  relative,  or 
acquired  it  while  tending  his  flocks  on  the  mountains,  by 
studying  "  simples,"  I  cannot  say  ;  but,  whenever  there  was 
an  ailment  in  the  house,  he  always  expected  to  be  consulted, 
and  as  he  was  generally  liked  and  respected  in  the  household, 
his  humour  was  often  indulged,  whether  his  advice  were 
followed  or  not.  Sometimes  his  prescriptions — verbal,  of 
course,  for  he  was  one  of  those  honest  fellows  who  could  not 
write,  any  more  than  the  great  Bertrand  du  Guesclin — had 
very  excellent  results,  and  it  rejoiced  his  old  heart  to  be 
told  he  was  a  worthy  successor  to  the  genial  and  venerable 
M.D.  whose  patronymic  he  bore. 

As  for  this  same  doctor,  he,  or  rather  his  book,  was  not  a  Dr.  Buchan. 
favourite  in  the  nursery.  There  was  too  much  of  the  Jean 
Jacques  about  it,  and  it  was  to  him  that  the  children  of  that 
day  owed  their  having  been  brought  up  on  oatmeal  porridge, 
brown  bread,  and  raw  milk  ;  butter  being  scouted  in  the  diet 
of  children,  by  his  ascetic  code.  This  book  of  Buchan's, 
entitled,  Domestic  Medicine,  was  the  first  volume  of  its  kind 
that  had  ever  been  published  in  England,  and  its  success  was 

VOL.  i.  30 


450  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUBY. 

enormous.  It  went  through  nearly  twenty  editions  during 
its  author's  lifetime,  and  the  number  of  copies  sold  before  his 
death,  was  something  like  100,000.  He  might  well  have 
called  it  a  vexatious  success,  for  he  had  sold  the  copyright 
for  £700,  and  the  profit  all  went  into  another's  pocket.  It 
was  translated  into  most  European  languages  and  circulated 
all  over  the  civilized  world,  and  the  Emperor  of  Eussia 
thought  so  highly  of  the  man  who  wrote  it,  that  he  sent  him 
a  gold  medal  as  expressive  of  his  admiration.  Buchan  was 


DR.  BUCHAN. 


physician  to  the  Foundling  Hospital  at  York  till  the  office 
wras  suppressed,  and  it  was  by  practical  experience  there, 
that  he  gained  so  useful  an  insight  into  the  diseases  of 
children. 

Buchan  was  an  amiable,  philanthropic,  and  most  genial 
man,  and  a  favourite  with  his  patients.  He  was  not  without 
humour,  and  a  story  is  told  of  his  having,  one  day,  remarked 
to  a  veterinary  surgeon  that  a  great  difficulty  he  had  to  con- 
tend with  consisted  in  .being  seldom  able  to  get  children  to 
describe  the  symptoms  of  their  complaints. 


DR.   WOLCOT.  451 


"  Ah!  "  replied  the  "  vet,"  "  I  know  something  about  that, 
myself,  for  still  less  can  you  get  a  horse  to  tell  you  what  ails 
him." 

"  Oh,"  said  Buchan,  "  don't  bring  your  cavalry  against  my 
infantry,  or  it  is  plain  I  must  get  the  worst  of  it." 

There  have  been  many  medical  men,  Dr.  Wolcot  among  Dr.  woicot. 
the  number,  candid  enough  to  admit  the  value  of  infusions 
and  decoctions  of  simples  resorted  to  by  country  folk,  and 
that  in  a  general  way  "  their  nostrums  did  good,  but  he  did 
not  know  how." 

"  The  most  extraordinary  of  these  I  ever  met  with, "he  said, 
"  was  the  broth  of  a  boiled  thunderbolt  for  the  cure  of 
rheumatism  !  " 

Further  questions  elicited  that  he  had  gone  into  the 
matter  and  discovered  an  old  woman  in  the  act  of  boiling 
one,  which  she  had  to  keep  on  the  fire  a  prescribed  time. 
He  took  it  out  of  the  saucepan  and  "  found  it  to  be  one  of 
those  relics  of  the  stone  age  often  found  in  Cornwall,  about 
which  antiquaries  can  never  agree,  some  asserting  them  to 
be  chisels,  while  others  pronounce  them  to  be  spear-heads." 

Somewhere  in  Espriella's  Letters  I  have  seen  greyhound- 
broth  recommended  to  a  man  who  had  over-eaten  himself 
with  roast  hare,  probably  on  the  principle  acted  on  by  the 
boy,  who,  seeing  a  mouse  in  the  milk-pail,  threw  the  cat 
in  after  it. 

I  ought,  perhaps,  to  have  headed  instead  of  concluding  my  Dr. 
recollections  of  the  "  Faculty  "  with  Dr.  Kitchiner,  because  I 
cannot  remember,  out  of  my  own  family,  any  personality  with 
which  I  became  acquainted  at  an  earlier  period  of  my  life  ; 
but  I  had  my  scruples  as  to  ranging  him  with  M.D.'s.. 
Though  he  was  duly  entitled  to  inscribe  himself  among  the 
fraternity,  medicine  certainly  did  not  occupy  the  first  place 
in  his  many-sided  life;  he  scarcely  practised,  his  ample 
fortune  rendering  a  profession  unnecessary.  It  is,  indeed, 
difficult  to  classify  so  versatile  a  character ;  you  think  you 
have  him  as  a  doctor  of  medicine  ;  you  suddenly  find  he 


452  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

is  not  only  an  equally  intelligent  oculist,  but  also  an  optician, 
and  you  discover  with  surprise  his  wide  and  profound  know- 
ledge of  the  human  eye,  its  capabilities,  its  diseases,  and 
their  remedies  :  you  are  amazed  at  his  elaborate  ingenuity 
and  experience  in  the  matter  of  those  instruments  intended 
to  aid  and  preserve  sight  and  to  advance  its  usefulness,  when 
you  find  he  has  insensibly  assumed  the  prerogatives  of  an 
astronomer,  not  only  improving  existing  telescopes  and  in- 
venting new  instruments,  but  applying  himself  to  sweep  with 
them  the  heavens,  and  to  afford  fresh  and  valuable  informa- 
tion respecting  those  mysterious  luminaries  about  which  the 
wisest  of  us  know  so  little.  Having  recognized  in  him  an 
eminent  natural  philosopher,  you  have  not  half  exhausted  the 
catalogue  of  his  surprising  capabilities;  no,  indeed,  not  by  a 
great  deal :  though  his  comprehensive  genius  has  soared  to 
heaven,  you  soon  find  he  has  not  abandoned  earth,  and  that 
he  is  as  respected  an  authority  on  most  sublunary  things,  as 
on  the  abstruser  mysteries  of  astronomical  research. 

Nothing,  indeed,  can  be  more  practical  than  his  published 
works,  whether  on  science  or  on  domestic  life.  Few  amateur 
musicians  have  attained  to  the  eminence  he  achieved,  and 
he  was  as  thorough  in  that  fine  art  as  in  all  else  that  engaged 
his  ubiquitous  attention.  It  was  in  his  nature  to  treat  all 
things  scientifically  ;  and  he  understood  music  theoretically 
as  well  as  practically.  His  compositions  have  been  approved 
by  a  great  authority,  Sir  George  Grove,  though  he  never 
posed  in  music  as  a  professional,  any  more  than  in  any  other 
science  he  studied,  and  music  was  one  of  the  delights  of  his 
life.  He  made  a  science  of  cookery,  and  his  Cook's  Oracle 
was  so  much  admired  and  approved  by  the  public,  that  it 
brought  him  in  a  handsome  income ;  he  did  not,  however, 
need  money ;  his  father,  who  was  a  coal-owner  in  a  large 
way  of  business,  had  left  him,  at  an  early  age,  a  very 
handsome  fortune  and  a  good  deal  of  house  property  :  the 
well-known  house  he  occupied,  43,  Warren  Street,  was  his 
own. 


DR.   KITCHINER.  453 


After  writing  elaborately  and  with  shrewd  common-sense 
on  cookery,  housekeeping,  travelling,  astronomy,  optics,  and 
music,  he  summed  up  with  a  treatise  on  the  art  of  invigora- 
ting and  prolonging  life,  and  another,  on  the  "  duty  and 
pleasure  of  making  a  will  "  ! 

It  would  be  as  unfair  to  my  readers  as  to  the  subject  of 
these  few  and  merely  suggestive  lines,  to  attempt,  within  the 
limits  of  the  space  I  could  find  here,  anything  that  could  be 
called  even  a  monograph  on  Dr.  Kitchiner.  His  character 
and  his  occupations  were  so  diversified  and  so  full  of  incident 
of  an  entirely  original  cast,  that  they  constitute  a  combination 
it  would  be  most  advantageous  to  study  in  detail.  To  those 
who  knew  him,  it  seems  extraordinary  that  no  one  should 
have  written  a  biographical  account  of  a  man  of  such  marked 
individuality,  the  more  so  that  a  rescript  of  his  intelligent, 
common-sense  views  of  social  economy  in  so  many  of  its 
bearings,  would  be  most  opportune  at  the  present  time.  Dr. 
Kitchiner's  life  is  one,  the  tenor  of  which  is  calculated  not 
merely  to  astonish  and  amuse,  but  from  it  might  be  acquired 
much  matter  for  reflection  and  practical  application  to  the 
present  moral  condition  of  society.  It  is  also  highly 
interesting  to  infer  from  his  pages  the  curious  social  changes 
that  have  gradually  and  imperceptibly  taken  place  in  the 
habits  and  accessories  of  our  every-day  life  since  his  time. 
Dear  old  Dr.  Kitchiner  !  I  have  never  forgotten  him.  I 
don't  know  why  I  should  call  him  "  old,"  except  that  he 
seemed  old  tome  then,  and  though,  now,  I  have  far  outstripped 
him  in  years,  the  impression  of  the  difference  there  once  was 
in  our  ages,  still  remains.  There  can  be  few,  if  any,  surviv- 
ing, who  know  as  much  about  him  as  myself,  for  he  was  a 
very  intimate  friend  of  my  father's,  who  held  him  in  the 
highest  esteem,  and  deeply  lamented  his  comparatively  early 
death. 

How  well  I  remember  his  spare,  tall  figure,  his  kindly  face, 
and  genial  voice,  and  the  benevolent  attention  with  which  he 
condescended  to  children,  and  made  himself  the  idol  of  the 


454  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTURY. 

nursery.  I  can  see  him  now  as,  seated  at  the  piano  with 
myself  on  one  knee,  and  a  small  brother  or  sister  on  the 
other,  he  would  play  and  sing  to  us  the  nursery  songs  he  had 
set  to  music.  I  believe  he  enjoyed  as  much  as  ourselves  the 
fun  of  inviting  us  to  feel  in  his  coat-pockets  for  barley-sugar 
"  kisses,"  folded  each  in  a  different  coloured  paper,  and  when 
we  had  dived  deeply,  seizing  our  hands  and  imprisoning  them 
until  we  had  purchased  our  liberty  with  a  kiss,  not  of  sugar. 

Dr.  Kitchiner  was  brought  up  at  Eton,  and  there,  at 
thirteen,  lost  the  sight  of  one  eye  while  playing  at  a  game  so 
dangerous  that  it  is  wonderful  it  should  have  been  permitted. 
He  died  in  1827  very  suddenly.  He  had  been  dining  with 
Braham,  who  then  lived  in  Baker  Street,  and  had  ordered 
his  carriage  at  8.30,  but,  enjoying  the  society  of  Mathews 
and  other  professional  friends  who  were  of  the  party,  he 
stayed  on  till  11.  On  his  return  home  he  ran  upstairs- 
more  quickly  than  usual ;  his  valet  followed  him,  and  saw 
him  throw  himself  on  the  sofa.  He  never  spoke  again,  and 
died  in  about  half-an-hour.  He  was  aged  not  quite  fifty. 

It  is  curious  that  a  man  who  wrote  so  learnedly  on  the 
care  and  preservation  of  the  eyesight,  should  have  been  blind 
of  one  eye  ;  that  although  he  published  an  excellent  and  well- 
considered  book  on  the  art  of  invigorating  and  prolonging 
life,  he  should  have  lived  but  half  a  century  ;  and  that  having 
enforced  on  others  the  duty  of  making  a  will,  he  should  have 
died  with  an  unsigned  codicil  in  his  pocket.  Though  married, 
he  had  no  children  by  his  wife,  from  whom  he  was  separated 
for  twenty  years  ;  but,  on  a  principle  which  he  did  his  best 
to  impress  on  others,  he  behaved  with  great  liberality  to  his 
son,  to  whom  he  gave  an  expensive  education,  and  who  was. 
an  undergraduate  at  Cambridge  at  the  time  of  his  father's 
death.  He  was  a  strikingly  handsome,  elegant,  and  gifted 
young  man,  and  his  life  was  quite  a  romance,  with  a  very 
tragic  denouement. 

Dr.  Kitchiner  had,  by  his  fascinating  manners  and 
cultivated  conversation,  drawn  round  him  a  large  circle  of 


DK.  KITCHENER. 


456  GOSSIP   OF   THE    CENTUEY. 

stone,  and  many  other  equally  distinguished  men  have 
spoken  of  medical  professors  to  the  same  effect ;  and  John- 
son bears  his  solid  testimony  to  "  their  benevolence,  dignity 
of  sentiment,  and  disinterested  readiness  to  exert  a  lucrative 
art  where  there  is  no  hope  of  lucre." 

We  are  all  too  apt  to  yield  to  the  temptation  of  saying  a 
clever  thing,  the  humour  of  which  we  feel  would  commend 
it  to  the  company,  without  pausing  to  consider  whether  it 
is  generous,  or  even  just ;  this  weakness  of  our  common 
nature  will  go  far,  not  only  to  explain,  but  to  explain  away, 
most  of  the  censorious  witticisms  which  seem  unfair  to  what 
by  universal  consent  is,  after  all,  a  great  profession.  We 
may  therefore  conclude  that  there  is  rarely  any  real  malice  in 
medical  bom-mots ;  and  that  they  are  for  the  most  part  harm- 
less, is  evident  from  the  fact  that  we  recount  them  in  the 
presence  of  the  Faculty,  who  often  repeat  them  themselves, 
and  are  as  heartily  amused  at  their  ingenuity  and  drollery 
as  are  the  laity.  They  are  not  often  as  harsh  in  their 
significance  as  the  saying  of  the  Oriental  Jews,  who  also 
probably  meant  it  for  a  joke,  that  "All  ass-drivers  were 
rogues  ;  all  camel-drivers,  honest ;  all  pigeon-fanciers,  liars  ; 
and  all  physicians,  children  of  hell."  But  what  were  these 
"  physicians  "  ? 

The  severest  of  Moliere's  severe  remarks  was  very  pro- 
bably true  enough  at  the  time  ;  and  he  only  showed  up  the 
medical  ignorance  of  his  day  when  he  defined  medicine  as 
"  the  art  of  entertaining  the  patient  with  frivolous  reasons 
for  his  malady,  while  Nature  was  curing  or  Death  destroy- 
ing him."  * 

"  The  Faculty  of  Moliere's  time,"  says  Taschereau,  "were 
naturally  not  much  distressed  at  the  death  of  a  man  so  well 

*  Pitcairn,  however,  recommended  this  course,  when  he  said,  "  the  last  thing 
experience  teaches  a  physician  is  to  know  when  to  do  nothing,  but  quietly  to  wait 
and  allow  Nature  and  Time  to  have  fair  play  in  checking  the  progress  of  disease 
and  gradually  restoring  the  strength  and  health  of  the  patient."  It  may  be  men- 
tioned, apropos  of  Pitcairn,  that  he  was  such  an  advocate  of  opium  that  his  practice 
was  called  by  his  brother  physicians,  "  Currus  triumphalis  opii." 


THE  FACULTY  OF  THE  PAST.  457 

informed  on  all  their  weak  points,  and  so  brilliantly  clever,, 
as  well  as  so  recklessly  unscrupulous,  in  exposing  them  ;  as 
may  be  supposed,  they  were  only  too  delighted  to  take  their 
revenge  by  attributing  to  the  just  judgment  of  heaven  his 
sudden  death  when  in  the  very  act  of  ridiculing  their  pro- 
fession." Madame  de  Gaffigny,  however,  who  lived  in  the 
succeeding  century,  used  to  expatiate  with  wonder  on  the 
extraordinary  prescience  of  Moliere,  who,  she  declared,  had, 
with  as  much  accuracy  as  had  been  manifested  by  the 
prophets  in  foretelling  the  Messiah,  pre-described,  in  his 
characters  of  Drs.  Diaforius  and  Purgon,  a  certain  Dr. 
Malouin  of  Tours. 

Notwithstanding  the  witty  dramatist's  apparent  hostility 
to  the  Faculty,  he  was  on  the  best  possible  terms  with  his 
doctor,  Man  villain,  even  availing  himself  of  the  King's 
favour  to  introduce  him  at  Court,  where  Louis  XI V. 
received  him  most  graciousl}r. 

Palissot  tells  us  that  one  day,  wiieii  both  were  dining  at 
the  Royal  table,  the  Monarch  said  :  "So  this  is  your 
doctor,  Moliere  ;  now  what  does  he  do  for  you  ?  " 

"We  argue  together,  Sire,"  replied  the  wit;  "he  pre- 
scribes for  me  ;  I  don't  take  his  medicines,  and  I  recover." 

Rabelais  could  not  resist  his  joke  against  the  doctors,  not 
only  in  their  presence,  but  on  his  death-bed,  as  they  stood 
round  him  after  holding  a  consultation. 

"  Dear  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  a  truce  to  '  remedies  '  ;  let 
me  die  a  natural  death." 

Whether,  after  this  exhortation,  he  finished  off,  as  some 
have  said,  with  "  Tirez  le  rldeau — la  farce  est  jouee  /"  has 
never  been  fully  authenticated. 

Frederick  the  Great,  who,  like  the  Grand  Monarque,  was 
fond  of  firing  off  his  wit  upon  doctors,  met  his  match  in  Dr. 
Zimmerman,  the  Court  physician,  of  whom  he  one  day 
asked  how  many  men  he  had  killed. 

"  Far  fewer  than  your  Majesty,"  replied  the  wily  medical 
courtier,  "  and  with  far  less  glory." 


458  GOSSIP   OF   THE   CENTURY. 

A  wise  discrimination,  it  will  be  seen,  is  needed  to  dis- 
tinguish between  "  doctor  "  and  doctor  ;  for,  various  indeed 
are  the  qualifications  of  those  who  profess  the  healing  art. 
11  Credulity  and  superstition — twin  sisters — "  writes  one  of 
the  profession,  "  have  in  all  ages  been  the  source  whence 
priest-craft  and  quackery  have  derived  their  success  :  next 
to  these,  fashion,  or  the  adoption  of  medicines  set  in  vogue 
by  princes  and  nobles." 

Dr.  Paris,  who  entered  on  his  office  as  President  of  the 
College  of  Physicians  in  1819  by  the  delivery  of  a  series  of 
lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  Mater ia  Medica,  "  showing  its 
importance  in  affording  lessons  of  practical  wisdom,  remi- 
niscences of  its  past  uses,  and  beacons  for  future  guidance," 
said,  "Its  records  are  the  symbols  of  medical  history — 
the  accredited  registers  of  departed  systems,  founded  on 
ideal  assumptions  and  of  superstitions  engendered  by  fear 
and  ignorance." 

I  will  not  part  with  those  who  have  followed  me  through 
this  chapter  without  assuring  them  that,  whatever  remarks 
of  a  satirical  nature  I  may  have  quoted  on  the  subject  of 
medicine,  as  far  as  I  am  myself  concerned,  they  are  "without 
prejudice  "  to  that  noble  profession — for  it  may  thus  be 
justly  qualified  :  why  not,  indeed,  "  noblest  "  ? 

If  the  soldier  risks  his  life  in  the  cause  of  duty,  so  also 
assuredly  does  the  physician.  The  incentive  of  promotion 
may  exercise  its  influence  in  both  cases,  but  in  the  profession 
of  arms  there  is  the  additional  inducement  of  attainable  glory. 
The  soldier,  when  he  risks  his  own  life,  is  also  bent  on 
taking  that  of  another,  or  many  others  ;  the  physician  seeks 
only  to  save  or  prolong  life  :  not  only  this,  but  he  risks  his 
own,  again  and  again,  when  exposing  it  to  the  results  of 
dangerous  experiments  intended  to  prove  beneficial  to  the 
human  race.  Many  valuable  lives  have  been  thus  sacrificed 
by  willing  martyrs,  who  have  given  themselves  unreservedly 
to  science  and  to  the  public  service,  always  ready  to  respond 
to  those  who  are  pleased  to  draw  upon  their  resources. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  PROFESSION.  459 

When  we  find  ourselves,  or  those  dear  to  us,  in  a  supreme 
emergency,  have  we  ever  paused  to  consider  that  the  infec- 
tion of  a  virulent  disease,  which  has  made  our  house  the 
terror  of  the  neighbourhood,  has  to  be  braved  without 
hesitation  by  any  doctor  it  may  please  us  to  call  in  ?  and 
does  it  occur  to  a  man  who  lies  wounded  on  the  field  of 
battle,  that  the  surgeon  he  has  called  to  him  must  pass 
through  the  "  thickest  of  war's  tempest  "  to  reach  him  ? 

Even  the  chances  of  longevity  are  against  the  doctor.* 
Mental  perplexity,  moral  anxiety,  physical  fatigue,  vigils, 
irregularity  of  rest  and  of  food,  exposure  to  changes  of  tem- 
perature, to  bad  air,  and  to  contagion,  sufficiently  account 
for  the  brevity  of  their  life,  and  ought  to  constitute  a  title 
to  public  respect. 

These  and  other  contingent  considerations  may  be  re- 
garded as  the  heroic  opportunities  and  ennobling  privileges 
of  a  great  calling  ;  and  by  the  reflecting,  they  are  accepted 
with  a  just  pride,  which  suffices  to  maintain  among  the 
Faculty  the  elevating  sentiments  of  their  traditional  self- 
devotion. 


;:  There  is,  according  to  reliable  French  statistics,  no  liberal  profession  of  which 
the  members  are  so  short-lived  as  Medicine.  Out  of  one  hundred,  only  twenty- 
four,  on  an  average,  reach  the  age  of  seventy,  and  whereas,  in  other  pi'ofessions, 
the  mean  age  is  fifty-nine,  in  the  medical  it  is  only  fifty-six. 


END    OF    VOL.    I. 


UNWIN    BROTHERS, 
CHILWORTH    AND    LONDON. 


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